Sweet Dreams
by Tears of Ebon-Grey
Summary: He came to her in her dreams, a grotesque spectre hell bent on revenge. The Other Side was falling, breaking apart at the seams and Mikael, he was there; the ever-present wraith that lurked in the back of her mind. She was just another chess piece, a pawn in his never-ending game against Klaus. (Picks up after 1x20 of TO and 5x20 of TVD)
1. Chapter One

**This was inspired by the song **Sweet Dreams** by Marilyn Manson and the love-hate complex I have for Mikael.**

**I really do love to hate him. **

**Anyway, this idea popped into my head while watching the latest episode of The Originals (1x20). It is kind of a 'what if'. **

**Let me know what you think :)**

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_Caroline laughed as his breath tickled her skin. His arms were large and warm; she felt safe as they encircled her waist, pulling her back against him. Her neck was bare, his lips at the base of her throat. His breath ghosted along the creamy white arch of her neck, hot and cold, saccharine in their seduction. The rough scratch of his stubble on her cheek as his mouth moved to level with her own caused her insides to clench in anticipation. His face was level with hers, his head by her side as they looked out at the fields below. _

"_This is beautiful," she sighed, leaning back into his embrace. "Where are we?"_

"_Scotland, 1604," his voice was low and content, his words whispered quietly as if not to disturb the beauty of the scene. "A castle in the southern uplands near Galloway. Bekah and I happened to stumble upon it sometime in 1598, I believe. We were happy here."_

_Six years of rolling hills, of the Scottish countryside; it was quiet, peaceful. It felt like home. _

"_Why did you ever leave?" she questioned, leaning forward to look over the antique columned balcony. "It's so beautiful. Peaceful."_

_His hands pulled her back harshly against his torso and the view below slowly morphed before her eyes. Green hills turned red as the sky rained fire. She could hear the cannons fire and smell the burn of the gunpowder. Peace turned to chaos as men appeared, shadows of men that moved as if in a dance, spidery demons made of smoke. They screamed and fought, red rivulets pouring from their blackened bodies. _

_Caroline tried to shake free from the arms that held her captive. She tried to escape the cruelty within him that made her watch the scene below. _

"_Stop it," she struggled against his hold. "I don't want to see this. Why are you showing me this?"_

_The voice that answered made her scream. _

"_Oh darling girl, why ever not? Do you not wish to see your beloved's masterpiece? Is it not a thing of beauty?"_

_She clawed at the hand that gripped her waist, noticing now the worn lines, the jagged edges that were not there before. Caroline fought, her feet kicking, nails biting into skin until eventually, with a dark chuckle, he let her go. She fell to the floor, the soft blue lace of her dress now an angry red. She looked down at her nails and saw blood. _

_His laugh was dark, a low dangerous rumble that shook her to the core. She found the courage to look up, to see the face she already knew was there. "Mikael."_

_The old man's smile sent a shiver down her spine, fear coiling in her abdomen. "Ah, you remember me. Lovely."_

_He looked down at his torn hand, drawing her attention to the angry red lines she had drawn on his skin. A small look of pride flickered in his eyes, pride that was tempered by the cruel satisfaction of her fear._

"_You're not real," she shook her head in denial. "This isn't real. You're dead. You died."_

"_Oh I assure, sweet girl, this is very much real," he moved toward her slowly, his step measured and unhurried, predatory in nature._

_Caroline continued to shake her head, hands grappling for traction against the cold flagstones as she scrambled to get away from him. She could hear the sounds of the men dying, their screams echoing in a symphony of agonised torture. Tears pricked at her eyes but she refused to let them fall. _

_None of this was real._

_The men screaming, their shadowy deaths a crescendo of broken cries, scratchy and terrified, stunted in anguish as the battle below rolled on. Cannon fire sounded, a thunderous clap that caused her heart to stutter in fright. Not once did she look away from the dark eyes that surveyed her, not once did she dare turn her back. _

_This was not real. _

_It was a dream. _

_And yet, as the earth below her moved and the castle shook at the force of impact, as steel ripped through stone, Caroline somehow felt that this was all very much _real.

"_Please," she begged, her back hitting the stone wall behind her. "Just leave me alone."_

_Mikael tilted his head and surveyed her. She was a mouse caught in his trap with nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. She was at the mercy of a man who knew no mercy. _

"_Now why would I do that?" _

_Caroline breathed deeply, her hands fisted in the material of her dress. "I'm not important. I swear, whatever you think you know –"_

"_I know that my son holds your face in his blackened heart," he crouched down in front of her, a hand reaching to stroke her hair. Caroline closed her eyes, scared and scrambling for some way to escape his grasp. "That is enough."_

"_I haven't seen Klaus in months. I-I –"_

_He hushed her. "And yet you dream of him."_

_She bit her lip, breathing deeply as she tried to find some sort of strength, some inner courage to open her eyes and face the demon in front of her. She was stronger than this. She was better than this. She would not be weak. She would not cower and play the damsel. Not anymore._

_His eyes stared at her curiously as brown met blue. _

"_You are quite exceptional. The innocent monster with blood on her hands that is still, somehow, inherently good," his hand ran down her cheek. Caroline shuddered in revulsion. "We are alike, you and I."_

"_I am nothing like you," Caroline spat, anger fuelling her courage as she slapped away his hand. "There is nothing good about you. You're just a hateful old man."_

_Mikael chuckled and leaned back, his elbows resting atop his knees. "I have been called far worse."_

_Caroline pushed herself to sit taller, to remain strong, to actually _be_ stronger than the weak creature she saw reflected in his eyes. _

_Mikael let out a low laugh at the defiance in her eyes. His charming smile, the facade he'd built finally dropping as his face turned hard. "You're nothing but his whore. One of many."_

_Anger flared inside her. "If I'm not important, if I'm just another one of his whores as you say, then why are you here?"_

_His hand shot out, fingers tightening around her throat. Her eyes widened as his fingers clenched tighter. Her nails clawed at his hands, digging deep and dragging desperately as her lungs began to constrict painfully in her chest. _

"_Do not overestimate your worth," his mouth moved to her ear. "I can destroy you. I _will_ destroy you. I will cut your body into tiny little pieces and send my son a gift of your heart and scatter the rest of you across the globe for him to find. I will make you a bread crumb trail he cannot possibly hope to follow. I will make you obsolete. It will be as if you never existed. You are nothing but a –"_

_His closeness was all she needed as Caroline used what little strength she had left to take the man off guard, her head coming forward to collide with his own. Her movement took him by surprise and he fell back, giving her the opportunity to break free. Her throat burned as she sucked in harsh, raspy breaths. _

_Caroline ran. _

_She didn't know where to – far away – as far away from the monster behind her as she could get. She ran, lungs burning, mind dizzy with confusion._

_He was behind her in a second, pulling her down, hand grasping the back of her neck and throwing her to the floor. _

"_Did you really think you could run from me?"_

_She looked up at him, hair a tangled mess in front of her face. She raised her head defiantly as she spat at his feet. _

_A boot collided with her face. _

"_I will make him suffer," suddenly his hand gripped her face, his eyes staring deeply into her own. "_You_ will make him suffer."_

_Mikael's eyes dilated. _

"_Klaus is twice the man you will ever be," she replied viciously, making her final stand as a heavy pressure settled in her chest. _

_Caroline looked down, eyes wide in terror and pain, at the hand buried deep within her chest. He whispered words she could not comprehend, words that somehow took root inside her. _

_She wanted to fight. _

_She wanted to scream. _

_His hand ripped free._

Caroline awoke with a start, a silent scream on her lips. She sat upright, body shaking in the aftermath of the dream. Her dorm was cold, silent and dark. On any other night she could listen to the soft comforting sounds of her friends as they slept, the gentle whine of Bonnie's restless slumber and the rhythmic breathing, the constant calmness of Elena as she dreamt of what was, no doubt, only happy dreams. Elena who had been through so much. Elena who had lost more than Caroline could bear to imagine. Every night the doppelganger slept soundly, untroubled by her worries, by the world around her. All fear, the nightmarish landscape that was their lives simply faded away and Caroline hated her for it.

Every night she dreamt of Klaus' face. Sometimes they were in Rome standing atop the Colosseum as the roar of the crowd thundered below. Then they were in Paris, strolling so casually, so leisurely down the little side alleys. Sometimes he showed her the Louvre, other times they traversed the palace gardens. It was always calm, always playful, peaceful, comfortable.

Caroline didn't know why she dreamt of him or the places that she did, stuck in the vortex of memories that were not her own. She only knew that she awoke every night happy yet trouble, rested yet agitated. She would stare at Elena, stare at the happy smile on her sleeping friend's face and wonder if she dreamt of Damon as Caroline did Klaus. Did Damon pull her through the streets of Tokyo? Did he talk to her of humanity and humming birds and the Andes?

No, Elena's dreams were far simpler.

Caroline let out a shaky breath as she looked about the empty room. Elena was away with Damon. Again. And Bonnie – Caroline didn't know where the hell Bonnie was. The darkness, the silence of the shadows that flickered about her dorm were only illusions, a trickery of the light. And yet, after that dream, she felt uneasy.

She had never dreamt of Mikael before.

The dream had been so vivid, the pain so real that she could still feel the burn in her lungs. Her throat ached where phantom fingers had gripped, wrapped so tightly, squeezing so viciously her body still felt the panic.

It was a dream.

Nothing more.

And yet, as she looked to her left, eyes locking onto the tiny black object, her mobile phone, she felt an inexplicable need to call _him_.

She wanted to call Klaus and she didn't know why.

As her hand reached for the cell, Caroline stilled in surprise.

Her nails were bent back and broken, chipped beyond recognition and covered in blood. Her hand flew to her neck and she winced at the bruises she found there.

A dream.

And yet not.

_Mikael. _

Her mind screamed at her and she tried, tried to remember why she didn't want to call Klaus, why she didn't want to bring him back to Mystic Falls, to her. She moved without thought, dialling his number like a puppet whose strings were tied firmly to its master.

Caroline fought against the compulsion. She could remember the way his eyes had dilated, the way he'd whispered to her in a language she didn't understand but her body seemed to comprehend. She resisted the temptation, fought the control, reciting over and over what her father had said about training his mind to resist, about being stronger, more resilient and immune to the manipulation.

"_Caroline_," Klaus' voice floated down the receiver and her stomach lurched.

She would not do this.

She would not let Mikael control her like this.

She would not let him use her from beyond the grave like some puppet.

Caroline was stronger than this.

With great effort, she hung up the phone, breathing hard.

She looked down at her hands with wide, horrified eyes.

The Other Side was breaking.

And Mikael – he was at their front door, ripping and tearing his way through the veil, trying to break through.

It was only really a matter of time before he did.

And when he did –

Caroline shuddered at the thought.

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**Thoughts anyone?**

**Reviews are golden. Feedback invaluable. **


	2. Chapter Two

**I have decided to disregard canon events following **1x20** of **The Originals** and** 5x20** of **The Vampire Diaries**, but I will make an attempt to incorporate certain story arcs (if I like them) into this story if my muse permits it :) **

**I apologise for any mistakes that may have slipped through the cracks. I smashed this one out in a couple of hours since work decided I was too sick to, well – work. Their loss, your gain ;)**

**This is a sort of test chapter, as it were, to see the general vibe among readers. **

**Happy reading!**

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Caroline stared at her coffee cup. The sweet bitter tang of roasted beans, good coffee, not the cheap junk they sold at the diner but her own personal stash, filled the dorm room with its intoxicating aroma. It was only ten o'clock and she was already onto her fourth cup. Every mouthful, every delicious drop was her only real assurance. Caroline was afraid. When night fell, when it was time to go to bed, to sleep, all she could do was lie awake in the dark. She was terrified of closing her eyes.

It had been three days since Mikael had invaded her dreams. Two days since she'd realised the gravity of her predicament. The Other Side was collapsing. It was breaking apart at the seams and as it did, as the fracture deepened so too did the power of the souls trapped over there. Enzo had tried to drown Elena. He'd somehow stabbed Stefan and Damon, nearly killing them both. He was dead and yet, his power, his ability to destroy and affect the environment around him, was very much real.

If Enzo could do it, then why couldn't Mikael?

What was stopping him from following through on his threat?

_I will make you a bread crumb trail he cannot possibly hope to follow._

Caroline was afraid. She was terrified of sleep and frightened, so terribly frightened of being left alone. And yet, what could she say? She couldn't tell Stefan what was happening; he had enough to deal with. Damon was too preoccupied on his quest to save Enzo's soul before the collapse and Elena – she wouldn't understand. Her only hope was Bonnie. She had to tell someone, the silence was killing her, and who better to understand than the Anchor herself.

So Caroline waited, her foot tapping nervously against the hardwood floor.

She'd thought of calling Klaus. He would understand just as much, if not more so, Mikael's torment of her than Bonnie ever would. But Caroline couldn't bring herself to call him again. She'd been so scared of him calling her back after the last time. He never had though; it was better that way. Caroline had snapped herself out of Mikael's compulsion, his attempt to control her from beyond the grave like some pawn on a chessboard, but she still didn't fully trust herself not to carry out whatever it was he'd compelled her to do.

It horrified her that he could do that. Enzo's revenge up at her father's cabin was like child's play in comparison. She was constantly aware, forever looking over her shoulder expecting to see a stake flying at her back. But the attack never came which, if anything, made her paranoia worse. Mikael had invaded her mind, he'd violated her dreams with his unquenchable hatred, and it was only a matter of time before he visited her again.

_I will cut your body into tiny little pieces and send my son a gift of your heart and scatter the rest of you across the globe for him to find. _

His words haunted her.

_I will make you obsolete. It will be as if you never existed._

He had promised to destroy her and she believed him, believed fully that he would if he had the chance. They had to fix the Other Side and mend the tear Markos had created. They had to stop Enzo and Mikael before they found a way to break through.

Or destroy it.

They could destroy the Other Side.

"Isn't that like your seventh hit this morning?" Bonnie's voice startled her and Caroline looked up from her coffee cup.

She felt a sense of trepidation as the former witch walked through the door, her textbooks clutched firmly to her chest. Caroline didn't want to involve her in this. Bonnie didn't deserve to be involved in any of it. She hadn't deserved to die or to be used as the Anchor to the Other Side, forever weary from the pain of those crossing over. It was cruel and Caroline hated it. But she knew, deep down, that she had to tell someone before her silence, quite literally, got her killed.

"It's my fourth actually," she replied light-heartedly, trying to force a sense of positivity into her voice.

There was no use being all doom and gloom. If Mikael had made it his ghostly mission to haunt her – or whatever – then she would simply find a way to stop him. Instead of burying her head in the sand, Caroline searched for some sort of solution. She hoped her friend had the answers she sought.

"Have you spoken to your grams at all lately?" she asked tentatively, watching as her best friend stilled at the question. Caroline hurried to continue. "It's just that, what with all the drama on the Other Side and Enzo attacking Elena and whatnot, well, I kind of wondered if she'd said anything to you about what was happening over there."

Bonnie slowly turned around and eased herself onto the edge of her bed, throwing her textbooks carelessly on the mattress. The deep frown on her face made Caroline feel suddenly very guilty.

"You know it's bad over there," the former witch licked her lips, shaking her head in confusion at the blonde vampire.

Caroline nodded her head. "Yeah, I do. I'm sorry – I really don't mean to pry Bonnie it's just that..."

_Klaus' dead father is haunting me from beyond the grave._

It would be so easy to tell her the truth. And yet, Caroline never was one for taking the easy route.

"What happened with Enzo got me thinking, you know – I mean, he's dead right? A ghost. And now he can touch things, like us, and what's to say that others can't do the same. I mean, he nearly killed Stefan and Damon the other night. And Elena! I just –"

Bonnie interrupted her hurried explanation with a soft sigh. "The Other Side is falling apart. Beyond that, Caroline, I really don't know what any of them are capable of. It's bad over there and things are only going to get worse."

It was going to get worse.

Lovely.

"If Enzo can attack us, then who's to say that others can't," Caroline offered softly, watching the brunette's reaction with cautious curiosity.

She was fishing for something, anything that could help her get rid of the psychotic monster who'd pledged to 'tear her into tiny little pieces'. Caroline didn't really much care for the idea herself.

The subtle shift in Bonnie's eyes sparked her curiosity. The girl was hiding something; the hesitancy in her eyes was all the evidence Caroline needed.

Caroline Forbes _knew_ Bonnie Bennett.

Just like she knew what buttons to push in order to coax out the answers she needed.

"Think about all the people we've killed Bonnie. When the veil fell last time –"

"That's – that's totally different," her friend replied, shaking her head vehemently.

"Is it?" Caroline prompted, taking a sip of her coffee. She didn't think it was. "If someone has enough reason to want revenge, like Enzo does, then what's stopping them from coming after us as well?"

She watched as Bonnie stood up, swift and agitated. Her friend moved to the fireplace, obviously troubled. Caroline felt guilty but she knew she'd made a valid point. And from the disturbed look on Bonnie's face, her friend did too. None of them had ever thought that this could happen. Dead was dead – sort of. But once someone crossed over, that was it; goodbye, au revoir, so long and good riddance, don't let the door hit you on the way out. Now the rules had changed.

"I had a phone call the other day," Bonnie offered quietly. "From Klaus."

Caroline let out a low breath, closing hers eyes with a small shake of her head. Confusion crept up her spine and fear settled in her heart.

Klaus had called Bonnie?

"Klaus?" she swallowed thickly, wincing at the weird scratchiness in her voice.

Bonnie nodded at her sympathetically, her gaze almost pitying. Caroline hated it. "He was asking about the Other Side. From what I could gather, not that Klaus said anything specific beyond the usual threats, but they're having problems of their own down there."

"Like we are?" Caroline pressed.

Mikael's face loomed in her mind. The sinister smile of satisfaction he wore as his hand had gripped her heart still haunted her.

But she wasn't the only one being haunted, it would seem.

"Yeah, I think so," Bonnie nodded.

Caroline licked her lips nervously and asked the question that had been on the tip of her tongue ever since the former witch had walked through the door. "What do we do to stop it, Bonnie? How do we stop an invisible enemy that's already dead?"

The look Bonnie Bennett gave her made Caroline's blood run cold.

"I don't think we can."

* * *

_Caroline opened her eyes in confusion at the sound of the ocean. Harsh waves crashed against the rocky cliff side and, as she looked around, hands digging into the grainy sand beneath her, Caroline wondered where she was. The sun was high, the sky a cloudless blue; the coastline ran for miles and miles. Before her was a sight of true beauty, the panoramic picture in her mind growing as she turned her head eagerly to capture everything. Grassy hills behind her, soft white sand beneath her; it was pure and beautiful. _

_Pushing herself off the ground, Caroline spun around, arms wide, watching as the dress she wore fanned out as she twirled and twirled and twirled. Her world grew dizzy and as she fell, laughter tumbling from her lips, strong hands caught her from behind. _

"_Careful love," his voice soothed her, made her calm and carefree. _

_Happy._

_Caroline spun in his arms. "Where are we?"_

_She was eager to know, eager to capture the memory of the place in her mind. She looked from his face to the ocean, to the rocky cliffs and grassy slopes. Her arms wound around his neck as she leaned into his embrace. _

"_Croatia," he replied with an amused smile. Her enthusiasm was infectious._

_Caroline turned around with dazed and thoughtful eyes. "Croatia."_

_She would love to travel to Croatia. _

"_It's not Paris in the springtime or Rome, back in the glory days, but it has its appeal."_

_She laughed at his words. "It's positively the most beautiful place I've ever seen. Show me more."_

_Klaus looked down at her, his beautiful blue eyes dancing in a way she'd never seen before. He was playful and happy, eager to please just as she was eager to explore. He opened his mouth to say something, no doubt some charming witty remark, but no words came out. Caroline frowned as his eyes widened and his body arched forward. Blood poured from his mouth as a stake pushed its way through his chest, through his heart, and ripped through flesh and bone. _

_Caroline screamed. _

"_I happen to find the English countryside far more appealing myself," the dark voice intoned pleasantly. Caroline watched as Klaus' body fell to the ground. "Now, where were we?"_

_Mikael stared at her, head tilted in a sadistic smile. _

_How had she forgotten?_

_She turned to run but his hand caught her wrist, crushing and brutal. She tried to pull free but her struggle was futile. His grip was like iron. _

"_Now now," Mikael tutted, dragging her to him. "There really is no need to struggle, my dear, you will only make things far worse for yourself if you do."_

_Caroline hissed as his grip tightened, his words punctuated by the sound of her bones breaking. Mikael turned her to look at him, his eyes hard and scrutinising. _

"_You broke free of my compulsion," the pride in his voice caused bile to rise in her throat. "How did you do that?"_

_Caroline's eyes hardened in defiance. "My father trained himself to be immune to compulsion."_

"_Like father, like daughter then," Mikael smiled viciously. "Tell me, how did your father react to having a daughter such as yourself? No doubt a man driven enough to train his mind to resist a vampire's compulsion must have known the hideousness of your true nature."_

_Caroline swallowed thickly and looked away. His words intended to cut and cut they did, but she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her crumble. _

_Mikael laughed darkly. "I thought as much."_

"_Go to hell." _

"_Oh darling," he pulled her roughly, hands forcing her to look at Klaus' dead corpse. "I would so love for you to join me."_

_Caroline struggled but the hand in her hair gripped tighter, painfully pushing her to the ground, forcing her cheek against Klaus' bloodied one. Tears pricked at her eyes as she tried to break free, the coldness of Klaus' corpse and the warmth of his still wet blood on her cheek causing her to panic. All she could hear was the sound of Mikael's laughter and the crash of the waves against the shore. _

_His hand in her hair tensed painfully and then she was being dragged down the beach toward the ocean. Instinctively, Caroline kicked out, her hands tearing at the one in her hair. As the cold water touched her feet and slid up her back, she knew her fate._

_Mikael dragged her into the ocean deeper and deeper, the water coming up to his knees. He pulled her face up to his. _

"_You cannot get rid of me," the promise in his voice made her shiver. "You and my sons may try to stop me but I will find a way. I will see you soon, girl."_

_Caroline tried to scream, but as he pushed her head under the water and as the cold salty liquid filled her lungs, she could do nothing more than stare with wide horrified eyes at face above the water. _

Caroline coughed, water spilling from her lungs, as she gripped the pillow behind her. Panic flared inside her chest as the salt water continued to pour from her mouth.

He would kill her.

If she didn't find a way to stop him, Mikael would kill her.

He'd kill them all.

* * *

**Thank you for reading.**

**I would really appreciate some feedback on this as I'm still a little wary of the 'full length' story. I haven't committed myself to something this big in nearly five years. **

**Till next time ;)**


	3. Chapter Three

**I'm so thrilled you** **all enjoyed the last two chapters. **

**This story is slowly growing on me and I'm glad that all of you seem to be on board with my idea for a crossover. **

**I hope you enjoy this chapter. Think of it as my birthday present to you (it seems only fair that if I get gifts, you do too!)**

**Happy Reading.**

* * *

_She ran, legs pumping, heart racing, her eyes darting frantically around for some kind of escape. It was futile to run and yet, it was all that she could do. She'd tried to fight him – she always did – but Mikael was too strong. He was a force of pure hatred and she, she was prey to his every sadistic whim. Caroline was not a fighter, she never had been. Time and time again, in life and in dreams, she was the weak link, the easy target. She was a thinker, not a fighter. Even Elena was stronger than her, quicker and far more agile, trained in basic combat whereas she – Caroline was all but defenceless. _

_It was why he came after her. Mikael knew she couldn't fight him. He knew that she was an easy target. He knew that her pain, her torment would be a chink in his son's armour. Mikael pushed her, tortured her, killed her repeatedly night after night, always promising more, always delivering in the hope that one day she would give in. Caroline may have been the easy target but she was not weak. _

_He could break her bones, but he would not break her mind. _

_Not yet. _

_Caroline felt the cut of glass tearing into skin. She ran barefoot, heedless to the pain and the broken glass underfoot as the war raged on. She was in London this time, trying frantically to escape both the air raid, the infamous London Blitz of World War Two, and Mikael's indomitable pursuit. _

_It was a game of cat and mouse tonight. _

"_Come now, darling girl," his voice taunted her from the landing above and, as she looked up at his face, the enjoyment she saw there sickened her. "There really is no need to run."_

_Perhaps it was futile, a foolish endeavour as he'd so often told her, but Caroline continued to believe that one day, one day she would actually escape him. She had to believe that. The alternative was almost too horrible to imagine. _

_And so she ran, night after night, hoping and praying that he would not kill her. She needed to believe that she could escape him. Caroline needed to believe that one morning she would wake not with a scream on her lips or a burn in her lungs, broken bones or water spilling from her mouth as she choked on the nightmares. She needed to believe that she could beat him. _

"_Here goes, looks like I'm falling," Mikael's voice sang tauntingly, the ghost of an old forgotten tune on his lips. "Call me 'devil may care'. I know it shouldn't be but you know me, pal. I'll take a dare."_

_Caroline screamed as her body collided into his hard chest._

_Mikael's hands gripped either side of her face. "Do you like dares, girl?"_

_She tried to break free but his hold on her was too strong. _

"_I dare you to stop me," his whispered voice floated around her and she knew, as she looked into his hateful brown eyes that soon his torment would end. _

_Reprieve would come in the form of a broken neck. _

Caroline twisted painfully, body arching as her neck flew to the side, the sharp snap drawing her awake. She bit back a scream as the bones in her neck reformed and healed. The searing pain in the soles of her feet and the scent of her blood in the air was the only evidence of her night's adventure. Like always, she awoke in agony only to find herself healed and her wounds gone by the time terror abated.

She could hide her dreams from Bonnie, mask them as nothing more than childish nightmares, disposing of the evidence when the brunette was distracted. Elena was thankfully absent. Caroline didn't think she could hide the blood from Elena, not for long anyway.

She didn't want to hide the evidence of her torture, of her torment, from any of them. But with everything that was going with Bonnie and the Other Side and Markos, all the doppelganger drama and Enzo on his ghostly rampage, Caroline knew that to distract them with just another problem would prove futile.

What she didn't realise was that in the end, if she continued to travel the path she'd set for herself, she would become the collateral damage.

Her silence would be her end.

Caroline looked at her sleeping friend, noticing the dark shadows that danced about the room in the predawn light. Bonnie had been sleeping almost as fitfully as she had as of late and Caroline didn't feel that it was right to wake her. If what she'd said about Klaus and the issues he was having down in New Orleans were true – Caroline wondered just how bad it actually was on the Other Side.

With a tired sigh, she flipped off the coverlet and quietly took to stripping the bed, swaddling the stained sheets into a bundle in her arms. It was just another excuse to buy new sheets. Better sheets, she reasoned. And, as Caroline set about getting ready for the day, her mind tired from lack of sleep, she decided that it was past time she made a visit home. It would be nice to see her mum again and maybe pop by The Grill, see if Matt knew anymore about Markos and the Travellers.

Markos was her only link, her only real lead to figuring out how to stop all of this. He'd been the one to break the Other Side. Maybe – just maybe, he was the key to fixing it.

* * *

He watched as a familiar blonde mop of curls leaned through the doorway. He'd heard her walk through the front door and make her way to the back of the bar, toward the storeroom where he'd set about preparing for the day's lunch service. Matt would know the sound of her walk anywhere. The sharp, measured click of her boots against the floor, dogged and wilful just like their owner. He smiled at the weary face that greeted him.

"You look like shit," he remarked lightly, lifting a box of stacked napkins out into the main dining area.

She followed him with a too tired scowl, settling herself on a bar stool as she watched him fill the napkin holders.

"Thanks, Matt," her reply was equally as sarcastic as it was fatigued. "Just what every girl wants to hear first thing in the morning."

He offered her a nonchalant shrug, frowning slightly at the exhausted expression on her face. "You know me. I'm all about giving the ladies what they want."

Caroline snorted in response, rolling her eyes at the ridiculous suggestive wriggle of his eyebrows. "Well this 'lady' wants coffee. And lots of it."

Matt frowned. She really did look awful.

Before him sat not the perky, well put together blonde he'd known his whole life. Never a hair out of place, nails always perfectly manicured; Caroline had always been as self-conscious as she was neurotic about her appearance ever since freshman year. Now, as he looked at her, all Matt could see was the messy ponytail tipped askew, the shortness of her nails, filed back and unpainted, the strange mismatch of her clothes. This was not the girl he knew.

"You okay?" he asked worriedly, setting the napkins aside to grab the fresh pot of coffee he'd brewed earlier.

He grabbed two coffee mugs from under the counter and filled the cups to the brim. Today was not a cream and sugar kind of day, he could tell.

"Yeah. I'm just tired," Caroline replied, gratefully grabbing the offered mug with both hands. She gently blew on the hot liquid before taking a sip. "I'm not really sleeping very well."

Neither was he.

With everything that was going on it was nearly impossible to get a full night's sleep. He and Jer had taken it in turns watching Tyler – or Julian – or whoever the hell he was. They'd tried to bring him back. Matt didn't know how many times he'd screamed the word _vyjdi _into the bastard's face, hoping that maybe it would have the reverse effect, that instead of bringing Julian forward it would send him back. But it never did; Tyler was seemingly gone.

And yet, Matt refused to accept that. They would find a way to get rid of the parasitic bastard in his friend's brain and when they did – Markos would be the least of Julian or any of the Travellers' worries.

Caroline was probably just as frustrated and tired as the rest of them, more so from everything she'd had to go through up at her father's cabin. Matt felt sorry for the weary blonde. She was always there, in the background, helping them all when in reality, she was just as exhausted and world-weary as the rest of them.

"I don't think any of us are," he offered quietly.

Caroline lifted her lips in a wry, self-deprecating smile. "How's Ty?"

Matt grimaced. "He's – it's not good, Care. We're trying everything we can to get him back but I – I don't know."

Her shoulders slumped forward and he saw all the hope fade from her eyes. It was hard for her. She was torn between trying to help protect Elena and Stefan, being pulled in one direction when the shit that was happening with Tyler kept dragging her the opposite way. Matt understood her dejection, her frustration; he felt it almost as if it were his own.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. We'll figure something out, we always do. Don't worry abou –" he tried to comfort her as best he could, his words full of false hope, when she abruptly cut him off.

"It's not that."

The harsh lines on her face worried him. She looked so small and so fierce, mouth pursed in a deep frown and yet, for all of it, her eyes held only fear and resignation.

"What's going on with you, Care?" he asked, palms pressed flat against the bar top. "Talk to me."

Hesitant.

She looked oh so hesitant and, dare he say it, fearfully hopeful.

Caroline looked around the bar, eyes darting around for, he realised, prying eyes and ears.

"I'm having these nightmares," she offered softly. He watched her swallow thickly, the grip on her coffee cup tightening. "But – well they're not really nightmares at all."

Nightmares that weren't nightmares; what was that supposed to mean?

Matt frowned in confusion but let her continue.

Caroline grimaced, uncertain of her words. "I wake up screaming, choking on water I drowned in, or coughing up blood. I – I'm scared, Matt. I'm really scared. I don't want to go to sleep. I –"

"Wait a minute. Just hold on," what she said made no sense and yet, he could see by the genuine look of fear on her face that she meant every word, that what she said was true. "You're having dreams that _aren't _dreams at all. You're saying that they're real?"

Nightmares that weren't nightmares.

He blinked in careful confusion, mindful not to show the depth of his panic. Caroline was a shell of the girl she used to be and now, now he could understand why. She was exhausted because she was afraid, too afraid to close her eyes and to fall asleep. That, in and of itself, was a cruel form of torture.

"If I step on glass in my dream, Matt, I wake up with cuts on my feet and blood on my sheets."

Her explanation left him at a loss for words.

What could he say to that? What could he possibly do to ease her suffering when he could barely comprehend what she was saying? The idea alone of her dreams being real – it was terrifying.

"Shit," he expelled a long breath, running an agitated hand through his sandy brown hair. "Why didn't you say anything?"

This had to have been going on for a while. You just had to look at her to see that something was wrong.

"Because that's not the worst of it," she whispered, eyes downcast and locked onto the dark brown liquid she'd seemed to dub her saviour. He could tell that she was trying to prepare herself and Matt knew that whatever it was, whatever she was about to say, would not be good. Cautiously, timidly she continued. "I'm...I'm being haunted by Mikael."

Matt blinked.

Mikael?

Cold brown eyes sprung to mind.

He stood straighter, eyes wide as he stared at his childhood sweetheart.

"Mikael as in Mikael _Mikaelson_?" he asked hesitantly, hoping that he was wrong, praying that she'd said the wrong name and that she didn't mean him, not _him, _not the monster that monsters feared, not –

"I think – I think he's trying to break through or something," she replied with a reluctant nod. "The Other Side is falling to pieces and he's using it to his advantage, like Enzo, and he's using me like some kind of bait. I'm scared to go to sleep because I know he'll be there when I do, waiting with some new sick and twisted way to torment me."

He felt as if the air had been kicked from his lungs.

_I wake up screaming, choking on water I drowned in, or coughing up blood._

Matt felt a sharp jolt of rage run down his spine.

He was torturing her. Mikael was torturing her from beyond the grave, haunting her dreams if what she said was true. The bastard was breaking her, night after night, and all she'd done was take it.

Why?

Why her? Why now?

_He's using me like some kind of bait. _

But then, this wasn't really about her at all, was it?

This was about him.

_Klaus_.

He hated the bloke but if his presence could stop Mikael then Matt was all for bringing the sadistic bastard back. Give the monster what he wanted. "I can't believe I'm saying this but maybe – maybe you should call Klaus."

Caroline didn't deserve this. Nobody did.

"I'm not calling Klaus," she shook her head vehemently, eyes hard. "Don't look at me like that Matty, I'm not calling him. It's exactly what Mikael wants me to do and I won't give him the satisfaction of winning."

His fists clenched in frustration.

"Well – what's your plan then? You can't just keep drinking coffee and hope that you won't fall asleep. You have to sleep sometime," she couldn't go on like this, he could see that now.

The blonde vampire shrugged her shoulders, a nonchalant smile on her lips as she took another sip of coffee. "I'll figure something out. Like you said, we always do."

"Care –"

"I don't want you to tell anyone," she cut him off. Her eyes held the promise of pain and he knew, come hell or high water, she meant what she said. "They can't afford to be distracted right now."

His fist fell atop the bar in frustration and anger. He saw her jump at the action. "You're not a distraction."

"Please, Matty," the doe-eyed face she pulled, the sweet pleading in her voice tore at him.

She was one of his closest friends. He'd known her his whole life. She was the constant, the chink in all their armour because if she fell, if she broke, then who would be there to catch them at their worst.

"I can't just do nothing, Care."

She offered him a small smile, reaching forward to grab his hand. "Could you, I don't know, maybe try and find out some more information from Julian about Markos? He's the reason the Other Side is falling so maybe he's the key to fixing it."

Matt sighed, turning his palm up to wrap her small hand in his large one.

It made sense – sort of.

Reluctantly he agreed, nodding his head in defeat. Caroline smiled at him sadly, gratefully, the dark circles under eyes making her look all the more lost.

Matt tried to persist. "If Klaus' father is haunting you then don't you think –"

"I'm not calling him," her voice was resolute. "And neither are you. Promise me."

The bastard's father was haunting her. It stood to reason that he should be here. Klaus was the reason she was being tormented by the deranged monster. _He_ should be the one to fix it. But trying to argue to with Caroline Forbes was like trying to talk to a brick wall. She was one of the most stubborn people he knew, if not the most obstinate of them all.

"Yeah. Okay," his half-hearted response drew an answering smile from the blonde.

"Thank you," she squeezed his hand, quickly downing the rest of her coffee. "I'll see you later, yeah?"

He nodded, realising with a jolt that they'd been talking for nearly an hour. She had to head up to the boarding house soon to join the 'doppelganger protection' squad, no doubt, while he had a diner to prepare for lunch.

Matt watched her leave with a frown.

It wasn't right.

Not saying anything, not telling anyone; _it wasn't right_.

Caroline didn't deserve to go through this, to go through any of it, least of all on her own.

They could help. Bonnie and Jeremy – hell, Elena and Stefan would probably tear the Other Side to shreds to stop the bastard if they could. Even Damon would jump at the chance to help her. She was the linchpin that held the group together. She was their constant.

It wasn't right to do nothing.

Klaus was what Mikael wanted. And Matt was all in favour of the giving the bastard exactly what he wanted if it meant him leaving Caroline alone.

It wasn't right not to call Klau...

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, a small grin formed on his face as Matt realised her mistake.

Just because he couldn't call Klaus didn't mean he couldn't call for help.

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**Slight filler chapter but hopefully it wasn't too awful. It was necessary for plot progression. **

**Don't forget to let me know what you think. Feedback is always appreciated.**

**Till next time :)**


	4. Chapter Four

**Oh my goodness! Thank you all so much for your support once again! **

**After the two season finales I have made a few tweaks to my overall story plan. I hope to intertwine enough of both story arcs to make it a plausible crossover, while keeping the story inherently my own.**

**Unless I change my mind (a.k.a. my writing runs away from me and gets ridiculously out of control) this story is now set for a good twenty two chapters.**

**I apologise in advance if anyone is offended by the use of strong language. I employ it very minimally and only where I think it fits. **

**Happy Reading!**

* * *

Being awake for over thirty-six hours was seriously overrated. In fact, it probably wasn't even rated at all; no normal, sane human being would willingly deprive themselves like this. And yet, the need to remain awake, to avoid the terror that awaited her the moment she closed her eyes, was all the incentive Caroline needed to remain alert and dizzyingly determined to avoid sleep. She was surviving on a diet of blood and coffee, and she was quite possibly going insane because of it.

Her hands itched with a sort of jittery need to do something, _anything_. Hell – at this point, she was in half a mind to take up knitting just to have something to do. The amount of caffeine she'd drunk in the last twenty-four hours alone would probably cause heart failure if she'd been human. But with the way her metabolism ate through the caffeine, the high only lasted so long. She always crashed and crashed hard, and when she did it was only too easy to close her eyes.

Sleep was the ever-present villain that lurked in the shadows, biding its time. Eventually, her vigil would end. Like Matt had said, she had to sleep sometime. Caroline knew that, but a part of her wasn't quite ready to face the demon in her mind just yet. So she drank and drank and drank some more, practically inhaling coffee like a man dying of thirst.

She knew that the others had noticed her strange behaviour. Bonnie gave her the weirdest looks and Elena, well she'd just seemed to brush her actions off as nothing more than finals stress. And that was exactly what Caroline was trying to pass this new addiction off as. She knew that Elena believed the lie because she was too preoccupied with trying to evade Markos to know any better. Stefan knew something was wrong and every time he went to say something, Damon or Elena would distract him with some new drama and pull him away from her. A small part of her hated them for that.

Stefan was her constant. He was always there when she needed him most and now that she needed him, really truly needed him and his friendship, he was too distracted to stick around. Caroline hadn't meant to tell Matt about her dreams, about Mikael, about any of it really. It wasn't fair to put that kind of pressure on him. And yet, she couldn't take it anymore. The silence, the lying had taken too much out of her; she'd just needed to tell someone, _anyone_.

Caroline felt bad for dragging Matt into her nightmare. He was already dealing with so much. She felt guilty and yet so relieved, knowing deep down that she had made the right decision. She only hoped he kept true to his word. Caroline would not call Klaus and she prayed to God that Matt would respect her decision to keep the hybrid out of this. Mikael was using her, waiting for her to break and call Klaus back to Mystic Falls. Like she'd told Matt, she would not give the bastard the satisfaction of winning.

Even if she desperately wanted to call him, to hear his voice, to have him tell her that everything was going to be okay.

Klaus would never let Mikael hurt her. If she told him, he'd come running back to Mystic Falls, to _her_, and she couldn't have that. Caroline had meant what she'd said that day in the woods. She didn't want him to come back. She'd made him promise to never return because if he did, if Klaus continued to play the charmer, the sweet and funny man that he only ever seemed to be when he was with her, then Caroline didn't think she could resist him. He destroyed her willpower and she needed it now more than ever. She had _plans_, things that she wanted to do with her life, and if he came back now...he would decimate them.

She just had to remain strong.

Caroline could not break; it was as simple as that.

"This is starting to get ridiculous," Bonnie's voice broke her from her reverie and Caroline blinked at her friend in confusion. "Give me the coffee, Care."

Caroline shielded the thermos in her hands, shying away from her friend's prying ones. They were outside, sitting on a park bench somewhere near Whitmore Library. She couldn't remember walking here or when Bonnie had joined her.

"Give me the coffee," Bonnie repeated forcefully, her dark brown eyes hard. Caroline could see the worry in her friend's face but she resolutely shook her head.

"I need it," she was adamant, pleading.

The former witch pursed her lips, exasperated and full of concern. "What is going on with you? Seriously Caroline, this isn't healthy!"

"I'm fine!"

"No. You're not," the sharp edge in her friend's voice, the forcefulness of the exclamation, startled her and Bonnie's eyes softened at the alarm on her face. "I'm worried about you."

Caroline felt a surge of guilt at the look on her friend's face. Bonnie looked anxious, too anxious for a girl who should be enjoying her newfound chance at life, partying and experiencing everything college had to offer, not worrying about her friends or the Other Side collapsing or the usual doppelganger drama. It wasn't fair. Just like with Matt.

None of their lives were fair.

"You really don't have to worry about me, Bon," Caroline tried to smile reassuringly. "I'm fine, I promise."

The lie tasted like ash in her mouth.

And by the look in Bonnie's eyes, her friend didn't believe for one second what she said was true.

Caroline opened her mouth to say something, anything really, to try and alleviate her friend's concern when an eerily familiar voice interrupted her.

"Well this is cosy," the British lilt, the sarcastic edge in the soft yet femininely sharp voice, sent a shiver down Caroline's spine.

She would know that voice anywhere.

Both her and Bonnie turned, almost simultaneously, to eye the intruder. A razor-sharp smile greeted them. Matt stood behind the she devil, a sheepish expression on his face. Caroline looked past the blonde devil in five inch heels to level her friend with a withering glare. He seemed to shrink back, suddenly wary of her wrath.

Matt shrugged his shoulders hesitantly, offering her a small smile in recompense. "I couldn't do nothing_, _Care."

She wanted to be mad at him. She _was _mad at him, god damn it! But he was Matt – _her_ Matt – one of her best and oldest friends. He was always going to do something stupid. The moment she'd told him the truth she should have known that asking him to talk to Julian would have never been enough. Matt always, _always_ went above and beyond, risking his life, doing incredibly stupid things – like this – for all of them.

"Why are you here?" Caroline asked in a harsh murmur, levelling the blonde with a hard stare. "Why do you even care?"

Rebekah simply stared at her, face impassive before turning away, swivelling on foot to take in the surroundings. The blonde she devil eyed the college campus with disinterest, raising an eyebrow at the group of over eager pre-med students congregating around the library's entryway.

"It's all rather dull, isn't it?" the original vampire asked offhandedly.

Caroline felt her ire rise.

"What do you want, Rebekah?" she snapped impatiently, not in the mood to deal with the blonde or her overly sarcastic remarks.

Caroline was tired, too tired to deal with the Original Bitch or what her presence might mean. In the back of her mind, she worried most about whether Rebekah was alone. If Klaus came to her rescue, as he always seemingly did, then Mikael would win.

"What do I want?" Rebekah raised an eyebrow at the ungrateful tone in Caroline's voice. She moved forward with a dangerous edge. "Let me tell you what I want. I want to be back in New York strolling down Madison Avenue sipping a tall latte, not here in – well, just not _here_."

The disdain in the original's voice was not lost on any of them as she gestured scornfully at their surroundings. Condescension emanated from her and Caroline had the distinct impression that Rebekah meant what she said. Whitmore was, no doubt, a poor substitute for the bustle and glamour of Madison Avenue. If she was being honest, she would much rather be shopping on the Avenue than here in Mystic Falls 2.0 as well. But Rebekah's derision, her complete and utter contempt, tickled Caroline's last nerve.

"Go back then," she retorted pointedly. "I don't need your help."

Rebekah laughed scornfully. She looked back at Matt who, up until this point, had remained silently uneasy in the background. Caroline looked at her friend as well, noticing the guilty look on his face and she knew, then and there, that he hadn't simply brought Rebekah into the fray to help, he'd told the blonde bitch _everything_.

"Oh please," Rebekah laughed again, rolling her eyes at the hard look on Caroline's face. "You'll most likely be dead within a week without me. I mean, just look at you."

The way the blonde's eyes swept over her body made Caroline feel suddenly very self-conscious, her old insecurities rearing their ugly head. It also made her mad, so unbelievably mad.

Who the hell did she think she was?

"Fuck off."

Now Caroline was not one to normally swear. In fact, she found the practice rather vulgar and distasteful, not to mention unladylike. And the former Miss Mystic Falls was nothing if not ladylike. But Rebekah had a talent for pushing her buttons and Caroline's patience had run thin.

"Now now, your mood should not dictate your manners. I'm here to help you Caroline. And whether you like it or not, you need me," the amused tone, the teasing reprimand, set her teeth on edge.

She was living off of probably two hours sleep in the last forty-eight hours alone. The blonde cow could go to hell; she could run on back to Madison Avenue and New York and take her bloody manners with her while she was at it. Caroline was past the point of caring. And yet, the reasonable part of her brain told her that Rebekah spoke true.

She needed help.

"I'm sorry but what the hell is going on?" Bonnie's voice broke the stalemate between the two blonde vampires, their eyes locked in a sort of battle of wills, and immediately Caroline felt guilty.

Rebekah raised an eyebrow at her, tilting her head toward Bonnie, as sadistic realisation swam in her ice blue eyes. "Oh, you didn't tell her."

Caroline swallowed hard, immediately realising her mistake. Bonnie looked anxious and confused, a little angry on Caroline's behalf, as she stared down the original vampire. The fierce look on her small face told Caroline that if she had still been a witch, Rebekah would have been levelled and on the floor writhing in pain by now.

"Rebekah..." Matt's voice brokered a warning.

She prayed that Rebekah would say nothing, that she would leave Bonnie blissfully unaware. Caroline could come up with some kind of excuse later. But of course Rebekah simply smiled unkindly, her enjoyment as clear as the sky above.

"My father is using this collapse – or whatever the bloody hell it is – to his advantage," the blonde original intoned casually, inspecting her painted blood red nails with care. "He's been haunting my family back in New Orleans and, it would seem, Caroline here as well. I'm surprised she didn't tell you what with you being the – Anchor now, is it?"

Bonnie leaned back in confusion, betrayal etched into the lines of her face. "Care?"

The question was clear. _Tell me she's wrong? Tell me she's lying?_ Caroline could see the struggle in her friend's eyes, the battle between hurt and betrayal and concern. She knew that not telling Bonnie had been a mistake.

"I'm fine," she promised earnestly, trying to grab her friend's hand for support but Bonnie pulled back with an apprehensive shake of her head. The rejection stung and yet still she persevered. "I'm handling it."

"And so well," Rebekah's snide remark drew a hard look from both girls, but the blonde simply shrugged it off with a dry smile.

Bonnie looked at her then, shaking her head. "Why didn't you tell me?"

How do you tell a friend that you lied to them, that you tried to protect them from the worry? Bonnie had been through too much. It wasn't right to drag her into something like this, something that could quite possibly get her killed.

Again.

"I – I didn't want to bother you," Caroline reasoned weakly. "I – "

"As touching as this is we really don't have all day," Rebekah's interruption, the sardonic rise of her lips, made Caroline's insides writhe in anger.

"I told you, I don't need your help. You or Klau –"

Rebekah rolled her eyes, moving forward sharply to stand beside the park bench, the annoyance clear on her face. "Oh please, the last time I saw Nik he was trying to kill me with a white oak stake. As if I would bring him with me."

Caroline blinked in confusion.

Klaus had tried to what?

But that was absurd! She was his baby sister, his favourite sibling for all intents and purposes. Sure, they argued like cats and dogs but Rebekah was always there for him. _Always_. Even after she'd found out the truth of their mother's death, the blonde girl had stuck by her brother in the end. And now she was saying that he'd tried to kill her.

Permanently.

Like kill her, _kill her_ with a white oak stake kill her.

Caroline frowned hard, swallowing against the bile in her throat. What would make him do that? Why on earth would he – she didn't want to think about it. Klaus was Klaus. He was rash and spiteful, impulsive and quick to anger. He'd made their lives – her friend's lives – a living hell for almost two years. Sometimes she had to remind herself of all the bad things he'd done. Sometimes she forgot who he was and what he was capable of. Sometimes she just saw the man where everyone else saw the monster.

But Klaus was a monster. Only a monster would try to kill his family.

Like Mikael.

"Look, I get it," Rebekah's face softened at the clear battle in Caroline's eyes. "You don't like me. Newsflash, I don't like you. But I am here to help."

The sincerity, the honesty of her voice no longer masked by false contempt or sarcasm, was all Caroline really needed to know in order to see that Rebekah was telling the truth.

"Why?" she asked softly, licking her lips before taking a long sip of the now bitter cold coffee.

Bonnie was tensed beside her and Matt had moved forward to stand by Rebekah. Caroline looked at the three of them, strangely hopeful. Bonnie and Matt; she understood why they would want to help her. Rebekah – not so much.

"Because I would not wish Mikael's wrath on anyone. Not even you," the answer was simple in its honesty and Caroline believed the truth in her eyes. Rebekah hesitated before continuing softly. "And if he is trying to find a way to come back...I have people in New Orleans that I love. I won't let him ruin my family a second time."

Caroline nodded quietly at the blonde original's words. Even apart, even when they were at war with each other, the Mikaelson's always had a way of protecting their own. It was like a strange unwritten rule; only a Mikaelson could hurt a Mikaelson. If Rebekah wanted to hurt Klaus then she would, she _had_, but if someone else, anyone else outside the family – minus Mikael – tried to make a move against either sibling the other would go for the jugular. They protected each other in spite of their hatred. Klaus had tried to kill Rebekah and still, here she was, trying to protect him even when she clearly hated him. They would always be a family united against their father.

"So what do we do?" Matt's simple question seemed to jolt Rebekah into action.

"First of all, we need to get rid of this," Caroline tried to protest as the she devil threw away her coffee thermos, but the look on Rebekah's face brokered no room for argument. "And then _you _are going to get some sleep. You look like a hobo."

Caroline grimaced at the truth of her words. "But –"

She couldn't go to sleep. If she went to sleep...

"Oh, don't worry," the blonde original waved away her obvious concern flippantly. There was a glint in her eye that made Caroline decidedly uncomfortable. "I'm counting on Mikael showing up because when he does, I'll be there. And then he and I can have a nice little chat."

Caroline blinked, trying and failing to understand just what it was Rebekah was implying. It was Bonnie's murmur of agreement and Matt's surprised grin that finally jogged her memory. Damon had slipped inside Rose's mind when she'd been hallucinating from the werewolf bite, dreaming just before her death. He gave her something to hold on to, something sweet to be swept away with as death finally came. He'd been with her, in her mind and now, the more she thought about it, the more Rebekah's idea made sense.

The original intended to slip into her mind just as Damon had done with Rose. For the first time in nearly a week, she would not face Mikael alone.

Rebekah would be there.

With her.

In her mind.

This was_ so_ not going to end well.

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**I hope you liked my 'blonde devil in five inch heels'. She was ridiculously fun to write. **

**Thank you all again for your support. I assure you, if I had the time, I would reply novellas to each and every review.**

**Sadly time is a bit of a commodity for me, so any spare chance I get I plonk my arse in front of the computer and type away for all of you. Updates are, after all, the lifeblood of a story and its readers. **

**Till next time ;)**


	5. Chapter Five

**I know that some of you are desperate for some Klaroline action and want to see Klaus in the story soon. He absolutely WILL make an appearance VERY soon. **

**All I ask for is patience in the meantime. There are a few things that need to happen yet before his presence can realistically be brought into the fray. **

**Thank you all again for your continued support.**

**Happy Reading!**

* * *

Bonnie Bennett had seen and done enough in her short life to know the depravity of time. Human's lived and died without pause. Time was their mistress and eventually the mercy of youth, the experience of age would come to an end. Vampires lived out of time. They were not bound by the same laws that governed werewolves or humans. Witches could manipulate their shackles, extend their youth for decades, centuries even, but always at a cost. Bonnie knew a lot about the depravity of time. She'd lived and died and been brought back, tethered to the Other Side for what was supposed to be an eternity. Now, she was living on borrowed time.

The Other Side was crumbling, falling apart at the seams. It was disintegrating so rapidly that the spirits she saw, her grams, all of them, they were absolutely terrified. And she was too. When it finally fell, when the Other Side finally collapsed, Bonnie wondered if she would be dragged away too or if she would simply fade away into nothingness. There was nothing she could do to stop it, nothing Liv or any other witch could do. It was a waiting game, the cruellest she had ever played.

Nobody knew. You would think that after what had happened at graduation that she would learn. But Bonnie couldn't tell her friends, not with everything that was going on. She couldn't bring herself to tell Jeremy because of what was happening with Tyler, and she most certainly couldn't put that kind of worry on Elena's shoulders. And now – now Caroline was being haunted by the one man, the one monster that even Klaus feared.

If Mikael found a way back, he would destroy them all.

"I can't believe she didn't tell me," Bonnie exhaled softly, shaking her head.

She looked at the two blonde vampires as they slept with unremitted concern. It had taken everything to convince Caroline that the blonde original's plan was the best that they had. Her friend was genuinely afraid to fall asleep, terrified of closing her eyes. How she had missed it, missed the fear and the panic, was unforgivable. Bonnie didn't think she could ever forgive herself for not noticing her friend's pain.

"If it's any consolation, I don't think she meant to tell me," Matt offered from beside her.

They sat on her mattress, legs uncomfortably crossed as they waited for the two girls to wake. It was early in the afternoon but they both sat, backs resting against the headboard, with a bottle of bourbon between them. All they could really do was drink and hope that the alcohol would numb their fear. It would be a long afternoon and night. Or a short one, depending on what Mikael did at the appearance of Rebekah in his victim's dream.

Caroline and Rebekah looked almost peaceful in their slumber, the irony of which was not lost on her. If Rebekah could just figure out her father's game, his end plan, then maybe they had a chance of stopping him. All they had to really do was delay his plan – whatever it was – long enough so that when the Other Side fell he would be swept away with it.

"I just – I don't know how I didn't see it! I knew she wasn't sleeping well but –"

"Care is a brilliant actress when she wants to be," Matt interrupted her with a shake of his head.

Bonnie frowned. "But I'm the Anchor."

As the Anchor she should have known what Mikael was doing.

"You're her friend."

A friend that hadn't seen her pain.

A friend that was lying by omission.

A friend that would be dead when the Other Side finally fell.

"Do you really think this is a good idea?" she asked, tipping her head toward the two blondes. "I mean – Rebekah?"

Matt shrugged his shoulders, a hand reaching for the bourbon. He took a mouthful, swallowing thickly. "She knows what it's like to run from him for a thousand years. Rebekah has more incentive than anyone to stop him from finding a way back."

Which was true.

But a part of her, the part that remembered their last few years of high school and everything the blonde had done, all the chaos she'd caused, did not trust Rebekah or her intentions one bit. That part also remembered her brother, remembered Klaus, and the lengths he had gone to in order to keep Caroline safe. She hated herself for trusting him, trusting that only he, out of all the Mikaelson's, would ever really have Caroline's best interest at heart.

"If this doesn't work then..." Bonnie shook her head in contemplation, unsure of her decision. "I'm calling Klaus."

She would call the devil back if it meant saving Caroline from Mikael.

"I promised her Bonnie –"

Matt tried to argue, tried to rehash the argument they had had earlier about why it was Rebekah that was here and not the bastard himself, but she interrupted him with a sharp look. Bonnie snatched the bottle from his hands and took a long swig, wincing as the liquid slid down her throat. She hated bourbon.

"Yeah, you did," she admitted, a strange look in her eyes as she watched Caroline's face twitch in her sleep. "I, on the other hand, _didn't_."

If there was one thing she could do before the end, one last act, then she would make it a good one.

She would find a way to stop this.

Even if that meant calling Klaus.

* * *

_The smell of the old oak trees, the earthy undertone of a forest untouched, filled her senses. She could hear the birds in the trees and the soft tread of animals on the forest floor. A squirrel scampered to her left, a small hare bounded up ahead into the underbrush. She could hear the gentle trickle of water in a nearby creek and smell the sweet tang of wild berries in the air. This place was so familiar, so sweet in its smell that it spoke of home. Caroline felt as if the woods were alive. They were untouched by time, the ghost of a memory that was not her own. She would know if she had been here before. _

"_Where are we?" she asked softly, almost afraid to disturb the stillness of the forest. It seemed almost wrong to ruin the silence with her voice. _

_Caroline closely followed the blonde original as she moved through the woods. Where they were headed, she didn't really know. Rebekah had been surprisingly silent the moment they'd opened their eyes in her dreamscape. She knew, as she did with all her dreams, that the locations were not her own. She'd never been to Paris or Rome. There was no way she could imagine so vividly the Croatian coastline or the horror of the London Blitz. Her dreams were not her own. They were dictated by some higher force, be it Mikael's idea of a sick joke or something else entirely._

_Rebekah moved quietly and quickly through the forest. She barely acknowledged Caroline's presence but did stop a moment to answer the young blonde's question. "Mystic Falls 998 A.D."_

_Caroline blinked in surprise. She craned her neck to take in the forest once more, eyes raking over every tree and shrub, every woodland creature she could lay her eyes on, in an effort to capture the scene in her mind. Her interest was beyond fascination; these untouched woods would one day become her home. It was remarkable to think that this was Mystic Falls._

_They were back to where it all began. _

_She hurried to catch up to Rebekah. Wherever they were headed, there was a determination in the other woman's stride that spoke of haste and longing. Caroline knew that if she dawdled behind Rebekah would leave her._

"_Thank you," she said quietly, coming to stand beside the original vampire. Caroline knew that Rebekah could have just as easily ignored Matt's plea for help and left her to face Mikael, once again, on her own. The blonde original glanced at her from the corner of her eye and Caroline hurried to add. "For helping."_

_Rebekah pursed her lips, suddenly stopping as they came to a clearing. "Don't thank me yet."_

_The blonde seemed distracted, agitated even as she looked around the clearing. Caroline felt fear slowly slide its bitter hands around her heart. She'd been waiting ever since she'd opened her eyes for Mikael to appear, but the bastard had yet to make his entrance. She wondered if he knew Rebekah was with her and that was why he'd delayed her torment. The anticipation ate away at her insides, a gnawing sensation that settled in her gut. _

_Then she noticed it. The large white oak tree sat apart from its brothers at the end of the clearing. At its base was a dark mound of freshly turned soil splayed with flowers. Caroline's heart clenched painfully when she realised it was a grave. The look on Rebekah's face was made of stone but she could see that beneath the stoic mask, a storm raged in the blonde original's eyes. Caroline had an inkling just whose grave it was they'd come to stand before. _

_It was strange how close they all were and yet so utterly apart. Even after a thousand years had passed, Rebekah seemed to hold close the image of her youngest brother in her heart. _

_Before she could stop herself, before she could think against it, Caroline asked the one question that had been on her mind ever since the blonde's arrival. "Klaus really tried to kill you?"_

_It was insensitive and tactless, but she couldn't quell her curiosity. _

_Klaus loved Rebekah. She was his little sister and from what Caroline knew, his favourite sibling. Why would he try to kill her? Sure they argued, they fought and killed to spite the other. But – Klaus had been devastated when Kol died. She'd seen the pain, heard his screams while he'd been trapped inside the Gilbert house forced to sit by his brother's blackened corpse for hours. She couldn't comprehend a situation that would push him to use the white oak stake against his sister. Caroline wanted to know, desperately, what had finally pushed him over the edge. Why she wanted to know, well – not even she knew the reason. _

_Rebekah's mouth formed a thin line. Her jaw clenched at the question and Caroline realised her mistake. The look in the original vampire's eyes – if it could melt the flesh from her bones, it would. _

_Caroline opened her mouth to apologise when Rebekah's eyes slid past her, locking onto something behind her. The muscles in her neck tensed and she knew – _she knew _– that if she were to turn around _he _would be there. _

"_Rebekah..." Mikael's voice was soft like the breath of a whisper on the wind, yet thunderous in the quiet solitude of the clearing._

_Caroline quickly turned around to face the predator, taken aback by the almost fatherly expression on the man's face. She moved to stand slightly behind Rebekah, watching in fascination the hold Mikael's daughter seemed to have over his countenance. He seemed almost...human. _

"_Hello father," Rebekah's voice was impassive, the lack of emotion cutting. _

_She could tell that the stoic facade hurt the bastard and Caroline silently cheered, a jolt of satisfaction curling down her spine. She was not a vindictive person by nature, but there were always exceptions. _

_Mikael was her exception. _

_As if he'd read her mind – perhaps he had – his eyes travelled from his daughter's and landed on her. She tilted her head up in defiance. This time she would not be afraid. _

"_You are smarter than I gave you credit for, girl," and yet his voice, the low baritone, inspired fear to rise within her. _

_She would try to be unafraid, to be better than his subjugation, but a part of her would always fear the man. He'd killed her, tortured her night after night and created a nightmare of what were once pleasant dreams. She was afraid but Caroline refused to let her fear show. _

_Rebekah moved to stand in front of her, an indomitable shield against her father's cold brown eyes. _

"_You don't talk to her," the blonde original spoke, voice hard and unwavering. "You talk to me."_

_Caroline could see over Rebekah's shoulder the sharp look in his eyes. She visibly tensed as they narrowed in her direction. His voice was calm but promised only pain. "Very well."_

"_Why are you doing this?" Rebekah asked harshly, her limbs tensed in what Caroline suspected was preparation. She was ready for the attack, her muscles coiled on instinct and ready to move if he did. "What could you possibly gain from torturing her like this? She knows nothing."_

"_Your brother –"_

"_Is in New Orleans, over fifteen hundred miles away."_

_Rebekah's quick retort drew a dark smile from her father. It made Caroline's skin crawl in disgust because she knew, before he even said it, that that was the whole point._

"_Precisely," the curve of his lips caused bile to rise in her throat. _

_How could someone be so charming and yet so utterly evil? He was a viper, a snake in the grass that none would suspect, that none would fear until they knew his true face. Mikael may not have been Klaus' true father, but he'd shaped him into the monster that he was today. _

"_So you want to draw him away? Is that it?" Rebekah asked fervently._

_Caroline could have told her that. This had always been about drawing Klaus away, about bringing him back to her. Perhaps Mikael meant to kill her in front of him, to perfect his son's torment by taking the one thing from him, outside his family, that he'd ever truly loved in a thousand years. Caroline really didn't know. _

"_You want to use her to bring him back to Mystic Falls. To what end?" Rebekah's persistence drew a weary sigh from the older man. _

_As he moved toward her, the blonde instinctively took a step back. Her body was coiled and ready for an attack that never came. Mikael simply stopped, eyes wide and uncomprehending, hurt at his daughter's defensive stance. Caroline thought of her father then. He'd hated what she was, but she'd still been his little girl. Just like Rebekah was Mikael's. _

"_This does not concern you, Rebekah. I had wanted to keep you out of this," the beseeching tone of his voice, the soft warning, took Caroline by surprise. _

_Rebekah stood steadfast, unaffected by his show of fatherly affection. "You cannot imagine the immensity of the fuck I do not give. You can keep your words of fatherly bullshit to yourself. After a thousand years on the run, do you really think that I would fall for that?"_

_Caroline winced at the harshness of the young woman's voice. Rebekah was unrepentant, mercilessly resolute in her protective stance. Mikael's eyes hardened at her words, but he remained silent._

"_What are you up to?" the blonde original persisted, eyes watching his every move. _

_Mikael moved to stand before a fallen branch to his left. He picked up the broken limb and snapped the wood in half, moving the now perfectly splintered weapon in his hand as if testing its weight. Caroline swallowed thickly at the movement. It seemed not even Rebekah could sway his need for violence._

"_I regret that you think so low of me, daughter. I tried to be a good father to you. I spared that boy's life. Marcel was his name, was it not?" Mikael implored Rebekah to understand, to know that he'd never meant to hurt her._

"_You tried to kill him. You tried to kill _all of us!_"_

_Caroline didn't understand who or what they were talking about. She didn't need to. It was a memory, an event well before her time; one that seemed to have left a lasting impression on both father and daughter._

_Mikael's reply was soft but firm. "Only Niklaus."_

_It had always been Klaus. The man's hatred ran so deep that even now, in death, Mikael could not let go. Caroline almost felt sorry for him. What a pitiful man; the only thing he seemed to live for was revenge. _

"_Haven't you done enough to destroy this family? Your hatred has _ruined _us," Rebekah spat, face hard and voice tainted by a thousand years of pain._

"_I do what I do _for _this family."_

_Caroline watched as a spark of understanding glimmered the blonde original's eyes. Rebekah smiled sharply as comprehension slowly filled her face. _

"_I should have known. You always were a small-minded little man, so consumed by your hatred for Nik and _'his kind'," _there was loathing in her voice as she laughed. Rebekah shook her head, a knowing smile on her face that was eerily reminiscent of her father's._ _"This is about Hayley. You want to draw him away and leave them unprotected and ripe for the picking."_

_Caroline frowned in confusion. _

_Hayley? _

_How did this have anything to do with that werewolf hussy? _

_And Klaus? _

_Caroline didn't think Klaus would suffer the brunette to live, not after what had happened with his hybrids, and most certainly not in the same city as him. He'd hunt her down, like he did Tyler. Caroline was sure of that. And yet, her surety lessened as father and daughter stared at one and other. _

"_You would protect that abomination," Mikael asked darkly._

_Rebekah shook her head at him, pure repugnance in her eyes. "Nik may have tried to kill me but he is a product of your rage. He's still my brother."_

"_I was not talking about him."_

_Caroline stifled a gasp as Rebekah moved to attack, her face contorted in rage. It happened so quickly, so fast that by the time she could comprehend what was happening he had rounded on her. Mikael had moved so fast, faster than his daughter had been able to comprehend. He'd pinned her to the white oak tree, the branch he'd broken earlier imbedded into each of her hands. Rebekah hung from the tree like a crucified angel of death, eyes dark and veins pulsing as she tried to break free from the pain. _

"_If you touch her, I swear –"_

_Rebekah's angered cry was cut short as his hands went to her neck, twisting sharply. Caroline breathed harshly as the blonde original's head fell limply to the side. Mikael was almost tender as he gently guided his daughter's head, his hand stroking her head lovingly. His tenderness, as always, was short lived._

_Caroline licked her lips, eyes darting around for some kind of weapon as his eyes fell on her. A nearby fallen branch was her only option and she quickly made a dive for it, twisting away as his hand grabbed at her ankle. She held the makeshift wooden stake awkwardly in her hand, eyes wide but resolutely determined. _

_Tonight she would not run. _

_He laughed and even though fear held her in its grasp, she stood firm. When he moved, she moved. It was an instinctive dance of moves and countermoves. He would take a step to her left, she would counter to her right, eyes unblinking. _

_She tried to focus, tried to look for a tell, but her mind could not concentrate. _

_What had Rebekah meant when she'd said that this was about Hayley? _

_He moved, nails biting into her skin as he twisted her arm back. She dropped the stake in surprise. Caroline struggled against his hold, using her small frame to her advantage as she curled in on herself and used his weight behind her to propel him forward and into a nearby tree. Without giving him a moment to regroup, she sped forward and slammed her foot into the side of his face. She smiled at the crunching sound of his nose breaking. _

_He'd made her bleed. _

_Now it was his turn. _

_Caroline attacked, she kicked and punched, fingers clawing at his skin relentlessly. Before she'd closed her eyes and gone to sleep, Rebekah had told her not to hold back. She'd told her not to doubt her ability to fight him. Mikael was older and he would win, he would kill her as he did every night, but she could still go down swinging. _

_His hand finally found its way to her heart. _

_It always did. _

_And as his fingers tightened around the organ, Caroline smiled in satisfaction. He would kill her but he hadn't won. She'd fought, she'd made him bleed and that was enough. Because when his hand finally pulled free she would wake from his nightmare. _

"_I am not the monster my children think me. I do not enjoy hurting you like this, Caroline," his voice was laboured, exhausted from her defiance. It was the most beautiful thing she'd ever heard. "Please, do yourself a favour and call Niklaus. This will all be so much easier if you do."_

_She lifted her head to smile at him, her teeth stained red with blood. "Such a sad little man you are."_

Caroline screamed, her hands flying to her chest as she bolted upright, eyes wide and awake.

Death had never been so satisfying.

* * *

**I just want to be clear that while Rebekah implied that Mikael's torture of Caroline was about Hayley, it is not me stating – as the author – that it is. **

**Everything I write is from the character's perspective in that it is their thoughts and their beliefs, which may not necessarily be true or right at the end of the day. Please keep that in mind. **

**Love it or hate it, let me know. **

**Till next time ;)**


	6. Chapter Six

**Thank you all again for the reviews! **

**Each and every review counts. I do take into consideration everything you say and try to tweak my story plan where I can. **

**This is somewhat a filler chapter but necessary for a number of reasons. **

**Happy Reading!**

* * *

Caroline sat quietly by the fireplace, her small hands wrapped tightly around the mug of hot chocolate Matt insisted she drink. The warmth of the ceramic mug, the crackling heat of the fire as it burned beside her, acted as a warm balm against the ever-present churning of her mind as it ticked over. When she'd first awoken, her lungs alight from the scream Mikael had ripped from her lips, they'd all stood there, surrounding the bed, examining her like some sort of guinea pig.

Caroline knew that Bonnie and Matt had meant well. But she'd felt like a freak for the first time in a long time as they'd rushed to her, and crowded her, with their prying hands and searching eyes. Caroline had simply smiled and nodded, letting them pet and soothe her, soothe themselves, until they'd had their fill. She could smell the alcohol on their breath and knew, instinctively, that they'd been just as afraid as she was. But Caroline was not weak and their concern, their flowery words of comfort, made her feel more fragile than she was.

It was Rebekah, who'd stood slightly back from the duo, that caused her mind to stir, a frenzy of questions on the tip of her tongue. Caroline was confused. She'd known all along that this had never been about her; Mikael's torment had always been about hurting his son. But she was confused, scared even, by the look in Rebekah's eyes. She could still see the rage there, the blind panic when Mikael had said what he had. Caroline deserved to know what it meant. She deserved the truth. If she was to be the bait, then Caroline wanted to know why she was the lure.

She'd opened her mouth to ask the question, to blurt out whatever accusation was on the tip of her tongue, but Rebekah shook her head silently. Her eyes pleaded _not now_. _Later_, they promised. _Soon_, they spoke. Caroline watched the original leave, her phone in her hand and her eldest brother's name on her lips. The panic, the fervent anger on her face made Caroline wonder, made her question if she truly knew anything at all.

Hayley.

Rebekah had said that this was about Hayley, and Caroline wanted to know why.

Bonnie and Matt had left a little while ago. Jeremy had called them about Tyler – or Julian – and they'd run off, just as she'd begged them to. Her problems – this situation – it was not the only one they had to deal with. _Go_, she'd said. _I'll be fine_, she'd promised. _Rebekah will be back soon. Call me if you find out anything important_. Bonnie had looked at her so strangely, hugged her so tightly, her phone clutched in her hand so fiercely that Caroline had wondered if it would break. Bonnie had promised to fix this, but Caroline knew that there was nothing that she or any of them could do. At least, not until Rebekah came back and divulged what she knew.

What _was_ Mikael's end game?

Rebekah seemed to know. Or at least, she had an idea of what the man had in store for them. It had been impressive the way the blonde had baited her father, the way she'd forced him to tell her what she needed, to reveal just enough to figure out what his plan was. If she could figure out what Rebekah had then maybe her mind would finally stop churning, finally stop twisting darkly with all sorts of strange and perverse scenarios.

Caroline licked her lips, tongue gliding across their dry and cracked surface. She blew softly on the warm liquid, acutely aware of her surroundings. The fire may have warmed her, but the confusion she felt was chilling in its perplexity. She heard the door click open, smelt the gentle waft of expensive Parisian perfume and knew that her wait was finally over.

"I want answers," she spoke softly, taking a small sip of hot chocolate, relishing its sweet warmth as it slid down her throat. Her eyes never left the twisting flames, the curling amber glow of the fireplace. "I think I deserve them, don't you?"

Rebekah moved quietly, leaning down to sit opposite her by the fire. Any other day, any other situation, and Caroline would have made some snide comment about the blonde lowering herself to sit on the floor like all the other lowly peasants. But as it was, she couldn't even muster up enough sarcasm to mask the hurt confusion in her eyes.

"What did you mean about Hayley?" Caroline asked, not even bothering to mask the mild disdain in her voice when she spoke the wolf's name. "When you – when you and Mikael were talking, what did you mean when you said that this was all about _her_?"

She looked up, hoping maybe to see some sort of denial in the other woman's eyes, some sort of false truth wherein she'd lied about the werewolf being a part of this. But Rebekah remained impassive, her only tell being the pity Caroline saw swell her light blue eyes.

Pity was not what she'd hoped to see.

Caroline sniffed slightly, turning back to look at the fire. "If for some reason Hayley is behind Mikael tormenting me then I deserve to know why. She tried to ruin my relationship with Tyler and she snapped my neck. She's the reason Silas ever popped onto our radar, the reason Klaus slaughtered his hybrids. I deser –"

"Hayley is pregnant," Rebekah's hushed answer, free of derision and intent, caused Caroline to stop her hurried accusation.

The werewolf was _pregnant_?

Caroline opened and then closed her mouth with a confused shake of her head. She licked her lips, lifting a hand to deftly push the hair from her eyes. What kind of explanation was that? So Hayley was pregnant. Big deal. She'd probably make a killing on 'Teen Mum: Werewolf Edition'. Caroline really didn't care.

She was tired and losing her patience. The Traveller who'd taken up residence in the former 'love her life's' brain had no information on Markos or how to possibly stop him. Killing the warlock seemed to be their only option and yet, no one, not even Damon could come close to killing him. And even if they could kill Markos, the Other Side was still disintegrating; his death would not stop that. Somehow, some way, Caroline had to find an alternative. She had to stop Mikael from coming back before the Other Side swept him away. So really, she couldn't care less about Hayley or her little bun in the oven beyond what it had to do with Mikael's torment of her.

_You want to draw him away and leave them unprotected and ripe for the picking._

Rebekah's words replayed in her mind.

Caroline frowned. Why would drawing Klaus away from Hayley be important?

_You would protect that abomination?_

Abomination?

Not Klaus.

_The child. _

Caroline swallowed heavily, shaking her head in denial as the dots finally connected.

She couldn't –

It wasn't –

There was _no way_, it was impossible.

He wouldn't, not with her.

And they couldn't –

_He_ couldn't.

_You always were a small-minded little man, so consumed by your hatred for Nik and _'his kind'.

Her mind scrambled for some explanation other than the one she'd drawn, but the pity in Rebekah's eyes, the understanding Caroline loathed to see on her face, told her all she needed to know. There was no other explanation. And yet still, she shook her head, refusing to believe, unable to comprehend.

It was _not possible. _

It couldn't be.

"It was a one night stand," Rebekah offered softly, leaning forward to lay a hand on her knee in comfort. Caroline slapped it away, blinking back tears. It wasn't that he'd slept with Hayley; he could sleep with whoever he bloody well pleased. He just – he hadn't told her. And it _hurt. _Rebekah seemed to understand then. "You and my brother..."

"We're nothing," she snapped, swallowing hard. "Never were, never will be."

Not now.

Maybe they could have been.

One day.

But not now.

Klaus was going to have a child. He was going to be a father. And she – well, she was Mikael's grand plan it seemed. Draw him away from New Orleans, draw him away from his child and its mother, leave them vulnerable and like Rebekah had said, 'ripe for the picking'. It was a beautifully sadistic plan; use one weakness as leverage to gain access to the other. But Caroline wondered now, knowing what she did, if it was ever truly going to work.

_A child_.

She was nothing compared to a child.

She wanted to ask why he'd slept with her, why of all the women he could have slept with it had to be _her. _Hayley Marshall had made her life a living hell. She'd snapped her neck and left her for dead on the floor of a dirty public bathroom stall. The werewolf had lied and manipulated them all, including Klaus and what did he do? Caroline's grip tightened around the ceramic mug. Instead of hunting her down, he'd had _sex _with her.

She didn't care how he'd impregnated her; the logistics, the impossibility of it all, didn't matter. What mattered was the lie. Klaus had known about the child, no doubt, when'd come back to Mystic Falls, first at her graduation and then to gloat over Katherine's dead corpse. And both times – _both times! _– he'd said absolutely nothing. Instead, he'd led her to believe in his love. She'd slept with him, confessed that he was her darkest desire, and he'd said _nothing_, not one word.

She wanted to hate him.

"He didn't tell me," her admission, lost and small and as broken as her voice was, held the glimmer of wondering, of incomprehension and disbelief.

Vampires could not have children. It had been the one truth, the one loss in her life that had always stung the most. She'd always wanted to have children.

"My brother is wonderfully notorious for being a self-centred git most of the time," Rebekah offered, leaning forward to pry the now cracked mug from her hands. She hadn't even known she'd broken it.

Caroline wiped her slightly damp hands on the material of her pants. It was impossible and yet, somehow, Klaus had managed to father a child. With Hayley. "How?"

"Does it truly matter?"

No, she supposed it didn't.

Caroline looked at the blonde original then, truly looked at her, and saw the dejection, the sadness Rebekah had buried beneath sarcastic one-liners and sharp smiles. She could remember a time, not too long ago, when all the girl had ever wanted was to live and die a normal human life. To be a mother, to have children and a family she could call her own. And now, Klaus was getting everything his baby sister had ever wanted. That had to have stung.

"So Mikael wants to use me to get to them," Caroline remarked, trying to rein in the distaste in her voice. She didn't like Hayley, she didn't like being lied to, but she liked even less being used as an expendable piece on the chessboard. Caroline hated being used. A disdainful laugh slipped from her lips as she realised her purpose. "Forever the distraction."

It was what she was good at, after all.

"I've spoken to Elijah and filled him in on Mikael's intentions," this Rebekah, this new and quietly thoughtful Rebekah, was almost as surprising as the mild pain in her chest. Klaus' non-betrayal – how could it be a betrayal? They were hardly bound to one and other – hurt far worse than she'd first realised. "They will not be unprepared for an attack should it come."

Which was good. Caroline may have been hurting, her heart a little bruised and her trust a little shattered, but she would not suffer Mikael to win. At least now, they knew to prepare.

"Why New Orleans?" she asked after a moment.

It had always surprised her that New Orleans had been the place he'd run off to. Not that she'd ever really travelled much, but Caroline had always imagined his choice of a kingdom to be more... _exotic_. Beautiful and old, full of history and legend; somewhere like Croatia or Paris, maybe even Rome. But then, what would she know? She was just a naive little girl from the middle of nowhere who'd stupidly believed all the lies.

Caroline looked at the blonde original then. Her silence was overwhelming and Caroline could see the carefully weighed battle in the girl's eyes. Trust did not come easily. And yet, after a moment of careful consideration Rebekah seemed to accept that there was no mal-intent, no hidden agenda behind the question. Caroline simply wanted to know, ever-curious.

"My family and I, we built New Orleans from the ground up some three hundred years ago. It was our city, our legacy. And Mikael burnt it to the ground," Rebekah intoned calmly, quietly, mind lost in thought, seemingly haunted by memories of her past.

That explained New Orleans then. It also highlighted just how much she and her friends didn't know about the Original family. They'd lived multiple lifetimes. She would never really know everything there was to know. You could spend hours getting lost in their stories and not even scratch the surface of all they had seen and done.

Tucking a loose curl behind her ear, Caroline continued. "Why? I mean, burning an entire city to the ground seems a little extreme don't you think?"

Rebekah levelled her with a stare that spoke volumes. This was_ Mikael_ they were talking about, a man who had hunted his children for over a thousand years. It really wasn't that extreme when you thought about it. But still, Caroline was curious and Rebekah seemed to be in a reflective mood.

"There was a young slave boy. Marcel Gerard; it all started with him, I suppose. His father was a horrible man. Nik – he took him in, saved him and raised him as his own. As the years went by and Marcel grew I – I came to love him not as a younger brother but as – as a man," the blonde original continued, grimacing at her confession.

Marcel.

That had been the name Mikael had used in her dream, the name that had affected Rebekah when used as a crutch by the older man, a gestures of some good deed he'd seemingly done. It was surprising to know that Klaus had acted as a make-shift father to some boy she'd never even heard of. She wondered what else she didn't know about him.

Rebekah laughed, a self-deprecating smile lifting her lips. Her voice was bitter as she continued. "It is a long story, but suffice to say that Niklaus did not approve and in the end we thought that the only way to be together was to be rid of him. So we summoned Mikael to New Orleans..."

"No..." Caroline shook her head in disbelief, hoping, almost praying that what Rebekah said was false.

"We all thought Marcel had perished when Mikael burned the city but – well, it was quite a shock to see him alive and well and King of the Quarter. Nik eventually found out what we did and..."

...and he'd tried to kill her.

As awful as it was, Caroline understood why he had reacted the way that he had. Always afraid of rejection, always terrified of betrayal; his sister and his – Caroline wanted to say son – had done both in the most heinous way imaginable. Klaus had always been nothing if not predictable to her.

"You don't have to tell me, Rebekah," she spoke kindly, understanding the struggle in the other woman's eyes. "I think I get the picture."

"I wanted to be there when my niece was born," Rebekah offered regardless of her words, eyes drawn to the fire. "All I've ever wanted was to be a mother, to a have family of my own, to be loved. She was my one chance at maybe finding that."

A girl.

He was going to have a little girl.

Caroline bit her lip in an effort to control the emotion that knowledge wrought from her. Like Rebekah, she had only ever wanted to be a mother. She'd always dreamt of a little girl that looked like her, soft golden-spun curls and bright blue eyes. It was a dream that she'd accepted as nothing more than fantasy. But Klaus, he got to have the little girl both she and Rebekah had always wanted. It didn't seem fair.

"If you want, I can kick his arse for you," she offered with a small smile, trying to cheer the blonde original. "He'd probably let me."

Rebekah laughed, a genuine smile on her face. Caroline thought that without the sarcasm, without the false sharpness Rebekah shrouded herself in, that the girl was rather beautiful. Inside and out. Rebekah was just a girl who wanted to be loved like the rest of them. She'd just had over a thousand years of bitter memories to sour her hope.

"I think that maybe, in another life, you and I could have been friends," the girl said contemplatively.

Caroline smiled. "I think so too."

In the morning, they would figure out what to do about Mikael. But for now she was content, happy to sit by the fire and talk with the original about the past. She was happy to learn more, to try to understand the beautifully broken girl in front of her. And as Rebekah talked and talked, Caroline learnt more about New Orleans, about Hayley and Klaus and, strangely enough, Elijah. She learnt about them all.

Rebekah loved too easily.

Klaus loved too little.

And Elijah, well – he seemed to love all the _wrong_ people.

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**A very gorgeous sociopath may or may not be up next ;)**

**Let me know what you all thought. Did I do alright with Caroline's reaction? **

**Thank you for reading!**

**Till next time. **


	7. Chapter Seven

**I apologise for taking longer with this chapter. I recently got a new job that requires me to pretty much travel across Australia for and I have literally had no time to do anything but work, sleep, eat and fly!**

**Updates may be a tad slower as a result. **

**Thank you all for your reviews and support, they mean the world. **

**I think you'll all be quite happy with this one...hopefully ;)**

**Happy Reading!**

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"So you have a psychotic megalomaniac ghost torturing you – in your dreams, no less – and you're only telling me this now _because..._"

Caroline shifted uncomfortably in her seat, unnerved by her friend's ability to break the whole situation, her avoiding the truth and why she'd refrained from telling him, down so simply. That, and Stefan Salvatore had perfected the art of the 'intense stare'. She liked to think of it as a sort of 'blue steel' vibe he and Damon had going on.

Except with their eyes.

_Salvatore Eyes. _

Like the song 'Hungry Eyes' from Dirty Dancing where Baby and Johnny were practicing for the dance performance. Stefan Salvatore definitely had the whole intense 'Swayze eye' thing going on, right down to the smoulder.

Oh yes, he had the smoulder down pat.

Caroline pressed her lips together, trying desperately to suppress the giggle trapped in her throat as an image flickered through her mind. She could just see it now; Stefan Salvatore as Patrick Swayze, the Johnny to Elena's Baby, right down to the ridiculous leotard and 1960's hairdo.

Dirty Dancing had been the soundtrack of her young and blissfully innocent preteen years. She knew every song, every lyric and rhythm, musical beat and dance. She and her father had watched the movie a dozen times over, swaddled on the couch with their popcorn and chocolate and blankets. She'd never thought it strange, never wondered why her father had loved Johnny so much. The movie, as strange as it seemed, represented a lost innocence, a time when life had been so much simpler.

And now, well – now it represented a rather ridiculous montage of soulful glances, dark brooding stares and the ineffable ability of both Stefan and Damon's 'smoulder'.

Or at least, the song did.

"Caroline, why are you laughing?" Stefan asked, brow furrowed at the peculiar high-pitched squeaks coming from her mouth as she tried to, rather unsuccessfully, suppress her laughter. "You sound like a dying hyena."

She couldn't help it. She really couldn't.

"I'm sorry," she laughed, shaking her head, blonde curls tumbling about her shoulders. The other students in the study hall hushed her loud exclamation with an unappreciative reprimand. Caroline simply lowered her voice and giggled. "I just – _Salvatore eyes._"

Stefan frowned, leaning forward to eye her hysterics with an amused half-grin. "Salvatore eyes?"

Caroline nodded with a mischievous and playful grin. "Like the song. _Now I've got you in my sights with these, Salvatore eyes. One look at you and I can't disguise I've got, Salvatore eyes. I feel the magic between you and I..._"

"Alright, Eric Carmen," Stefan interrupted her rather soulful rendition with a short laugh, shaking his head at her antics. He simply didn't appreciate her musical prowess. "You're rather chipper for someone who's being haunted by a psychotic mass murderer."

Caroline shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. It was true. She was overtly 'chipper' for someone who'd been through endless bouts of torture night after night. But then again, it was all about ones perspective. Sure, she was scared and more than a little terrified of the whole situation but a pessimistic attitude would get her nowhere. If she let it get to her, if she let Mikael's persistence break her, Klaus' semi-betrayal dishearten her, then she would be letting him – _them_ – win.

Talking with Rebekah last night had put a few things into perspective for her. She understood more keenly why Klaus was the way that he was; Rebekah had told her perhaps a little too much about their childhood and Mikael's torment, about how their mother had done nothing but enable it. Caroline had known about his bad childhood from snippets she'd caught from Elena and the others, even Klaus himself had shared a titbit or two, but she hadn't known the extent of what he'd endured over the years.

And now she did, thanks to his little sister.

Perhaps Rebekah had sensed the shift in her feelings toward the hybrid, or maybe he'd told her about their time in the woods together. Caroline didn't really know why the blonde original had opened up to her. In truth, she didn't really mind or care why; talking with someone outside her friendship group had been nice. There was no judgement, no hidden agenda or false meaning. They'd simply talked.

And maybe that was why she felt better, less stressed or weighed down by the sheer enormity of her situation. She had people she could turn to, friends that wanted to help her, that actually _could_ help her. Mikael may have been haunting her, using her to get to Klaus, but she wasn't alone in her fight. She didn't _have _to do any of it alone.

Stefan and Damon were working on a way to kill Markos before he could start the spell to unravel all magic. Why not combine their plight and work together instead of worrying and lying, sneaking around trying to avoid being caught by the other, trying dodge too many questions. It made sense and, just like she'd surmised, killing Markos might just be the key to fixing the tear he'd created. Rebekah seemed to think that maybe if they could fix the tear, stitch it back together as it were, then perhaps whatever fracture Mikael was using to his advantage would close.

Kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.

It was a start, a plan that they hadn't had before, one she'd guessed at but made no serious attempt to implement, so Caroline was determined to be positive. Even if her idea of positivity came across as a ludicrous rendition of a song she'd loved as a child. She wouldn't let Mikael beat her down or break her spirit, and she most certainly wouldn't let him win, or use her in any way to hurt Klaus or his child.

His child.

Caroline didn't really want to think about that.

"Positivity is key," she replied to Stefan finally, a forced smile on her lips. "And besides, I kind of kicked arse last night so I can be happy about that."

Breaking Mikael's nose had been one of those indescribable moments that left her with a feeling of pure satisfaction. When she started to doubt that she could do this, that she could beat him, all she'd have to do is remember that delicious sound as his nose caved beneath her fist.

Best. Confidence. Boost. Ever.

Caroline looked to her friend expectantly. He was always one for some smart reply or subtle comment imbued with wit. But he remained silent, a strange glaze in his stare. "Stefan?"

Nothing.

No response.

He was immobile, frozen yet absolutely aware. She could see the panic begin to creep into his eyes, the way they darted about the room wildly, frantically. His mouth opened and closed, silent words pouring from his lips; she could see that he was trying to say something, trying to – warn her?

Caroline felt fear coil in her belly as she frenetically looked around. A part of her hoped to see Liv standing at the end of the room because then, if it was the witch, she would know what to do.

But Liv was not there.

No one was.

The study hall was suddenly very quiet and very _empty. _

"Stefan?" the panic in her voice increased as his hands suddenly moved to his neck, grasping the air almost as if he was trying to fend off...

Caroline sucked in a breath and stood up harshly, her chair clattering to the floor behind her. He was choking. Stefan was _choking_. She could see it, feel his immobile panic as something held him still and tried to strangle the life from him. Her mind said Enzo but her instincts, they screamed of something far more heinous. She tried to help her friend, hands grasping the empty space where phantom fingers squeezed. But there was nothing there, nothing to grab or scratch or tear away.

Only air.

"Stop it," she begged the empty room, reaching down to grab a pencil from the table. She clutched it in her small hand, acutely aware of how ridiculous she looked.

What would a pencil do against an angry vengeful spirit? She might not have been able to see him but she knew he was there. This was what she'd been afraid of.

Stefan continued to gasp, the veins in his neck throbbing as his lungs constricted. Caroline felt tears well in her eyes as he looked at her, almost pleadingly, to do something.

"Please. Stop it. You're killing him," she begged, voice brokenly hoarse.

_How do we stop an invisible enemy that's already dead?_

She'd asked Bonnie that. And now her fears had finally been realised.

Caroline didn't know what to do. Her friend was dying, being strangled right in front of her, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She felt useless, so utterly, irritatingly useless! And, as she scrambled for her phone to call for help – that was all she really could do – Caroline felt the cold phantom hands push against her chest.

She flew back, body colliding against a bookcase. The force of the impact rattled her and she fell limply to the floor, her makeshift weapon gone, scattered somewhere far out of reach. Caroline looked up, hands pushing fallen textbooks away, and frantically searched for Stefan. He was breathing again, she realised with relief, as his harsh raspy breaths floated through the air.

He was _breathing_ but she couldn't see him. Not anywhere.

Caroline moved to stand but a heavy weight pushed her down. Her face collided with the floor, the sharp spine of one of the fallen books cushioning the blow. As it did, she felt her nose crack from the pressure. She screamed as a sharp pain pulsed through her left hand. Caroline looked down to see the pencil, her weapon, firmly imbedded there.

She was nailed to the floor, her wound seeping more and more blood onto the hardwood floorboards, staining the old pine red as she tried to pull free, tried to wriggle away from the invisible hands that held her captive. Caroline tried to pull the pencil free with her other hand, screaming as it was twisted away, her arm sharply pulled behind her back.

Blood trickled down her face, painting her the victim, and into her mouth. She felt dizzy from the pain, acutely aware of her hand and its wooden nail, conscious of the splinters that broke off and twisted into her muscles and arteries. Caroline felt weak and shamefully useless, knowing that this was retribution, that this was her payback, her punishment, her sentence.

"Caroline!" Stefan's voice floated around her and she looked up to see his blurry form move toward her. A force threw him back and into the wall, his neck twisted sharply to the left. Stefan slumped to the floor and her hope with him.

This was it.

Her end.

She should have known not to let her guard down, not to get complacent.

Stupid.

She was so utterly _stupid_ for thinking that he wouldn't come for her after their last encounter.

Her stupidity would be her death.

Words drifted through the silence, strange intelligible sounds, and Caroline felt the pressure on her back lift slightly. She tried to look past the haze, tried to see where the buzz came from, the strange lilting words that she couldn't quite make out. A small gasp fell from her lips as she tried to move, pain erupting in her side. Caroline grasped at the pain, tore at her side for whatever was lodged between her ribs, but her fingers were clumsy and coated in blood, slippery from the pain.

Strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her up from the floor. She panicked in their embrace, thrashing weakly as her brain screamed, mind telling her that it was Mikael. But it was not he, for this body, these arms were warm and real, as solid as a cage and she the injured bird caught in their trap. They were soothing and soft, not the arms of a phantom but the arms of a saviour.

Her head fell to the side, exhausted and dizzy, as her panic slowly began to subside. A hand ran through her hair, a murmur of safety in its caress. She was safe. It was okay to be calm, to let fear fade.

A sweet musk, the spice of pine and earth, the gentle comfort of the woods, filled her senses. It was a smell she knew, one she'd dreamt of; the pain was making her delirious.

A hand pushed at her mouth, the luxurious scent of fresh blood, the heady tang of pure indulgence, swept across her tongue. She was lost to the taste, grasping firmly the sweet respite that fed her, healed her, heedless of restraint or control. The hand in her hair continued to caress her golden curls and Caroline realised, almost startlingly, that she was on the ground by the entryway. And, as she slowly came back to her senses, her eyes darted around the room noticing Stefan by her feet and Liv by her side, hand outstretched, words tumbling from her lips.

Her grip on the arm encircled protectively around her waist tightened, nails digging into flesh. She pulled her mouth away from his hand, blinking against the pain of her wounds slowly knitting back together. She would have healed on her own given time but fresh blood always hurried the process.

Caroline licked her lips, noticing Bonnie for the first time, tucked slightly behind the blonde witch. Her friend pointed to some unseen object in the distance and Liv redirected her concentration. She followed their dance with her eyes, gently leaning back into the arms that soothed her.

And then she remembered.

Caroline turned sharply in his arms, trying and failing to ignore the pull of his eyes, so sad and so sorry, repentantly beautiful in their apology. "You can't be here," she blurted out.

Her hands fisted in the material of his shirt as she begged, pleaded with him, pushing weakly against his chest.

_He couldn't be here_.

Not now.

Hurt flashed through his eyes and soon the soft expression was gone, all tenderness replaced by hard, sardonic indifference.

"No," she shook her head at him hurriedly, frantically, lifting a hand to cup the side of his face. She had to touch him – she couldn't not. Caroline had to make him realise, make him understand. He had to know. He couldn't be here. "You don't – you don't understand. You're not supposed to be here. You can't be here. Don't you get it? _I'm the distraction_."

Klaus blinked slowly, the hard lines of his face softening in false realisation. She was not rejecting him, not rejecting his presence or his help; Caroline was simply afraid. He shook his head at her, lips curving into a sinfully sweet smile, oblivious to anything beyond the feel of her in his arms. His smile pulled at her, distracted her, and set a sweet fire of remembrance in the pit of her belly.

_No_.

Caroline growled in frustration. "Damn it, Klaus! Stop. Just listen to me, will you? I'm the distraction. Mikael _wants _you here. Away from New Orleans. Away from Elijah and Hayley_. Your baby_."

He blinked, almost dazedly, and the smile slowly fell from his lips. She watched, transfixed by the gentle bob of his throat as he swallowed, remembering the taste and the scratch of his stubble. There was a torment to his expression, a sort of mild imbued panic that none could see but her.

"I'm the distraction," she repeated softly, pleadingly, begging him to go, hands pushing at his shoulders.

The sound of his breath, the intensity of his stare, encompassed all that she was. She begged him with her eyes to leave, nails biting into the material of his shirt. He looked so lost, so uncomprehending.

Beautiful.

Broken.

"Nik?" Rebekah's voice finally, _finally, _tore his gaze away from her and Caroline breathed in relief, released from the prison of his indomitable stare.

The female original looked with wide, terrified eyes at the sight before her, gaze flickering to Stefan, slumped and temporarily dead by Caroline's feet, and then to Liv and Bonnie, before finally resting on the now flickering shadow crouched in the far corner. It was dark, a wispy silhouette that moved between worlds, flickering in and out of reality, a grotesque spectre made only of hate and revenge. Caroline realised with a start that the shadow was Mikael.

"Nik!" Rebekah's voice asked again, more agitated and wary, panicked as comprehension dawned on her. The blonde's gaze darted between brother and wraith. "You can't be here. I called Elijah. He said –"

"I can't contain his spirit," Liv's voice broke through and Caroline noticed then the trail of blood that dripped from the witch's ear. "He's too strong."

Klaus swallowed hard, looking down to her and then back to his sister, finally moved to action.

His voice was like thunder, roaring through the sky, a tumultuous clap of panic as he eyed his sister finally, _finally_, understanding why they were all so panicked and so eager to be rid of him. "Call Elijah. _Now!_"

Rebekah moved quickly, scrambling for her phone as Mikael's shadow flickered out of sight, dissipating as the witch, whose spell had bound him, fell unconscious to the floor.

Caroline closed her eyes, blinking back tears, as Rebekah's hurried voice drifted through the silence.

Mikael had won.

Because of her, he'd won.

Her dark knight had come to her rescue, but at what cost?

Was she to be damned for the death of an innocent child, of a small unsuspecting life that hadn't even had the chance to live?

If Mikael found a way back, if he hurt Klaus' daughter...Caroline didn't think she could live with the guilt, even if the mere idea of the child tore at her very core.

She only hoped it wasn't too late to stop him.

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**Thoughts anyone? **

**Loved it or hated it, let me know!**

**I will try to update again in the next week or so. Thankfully, there is a public holiday coming up so I may be able to knuckle down and smash out a chapter then. **

**Till next time ;)**


	8. Chapter Eight

**Honestly, the support for this story is amazing. You guys and gals are something else! I literally have to pinch myself sometimes to make myself believe that you all seem to enjoy reading this.**

**Because I'm a bit of a jetsetter with work now, I will absolutely positively TRY to update once a week. If I don't manage that, I promise you will have to wait no more than two weeks at most. **

**Anyway, thank you all again. I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**Happy Reading!**

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They say that time heals all wounds, that time can heal what reason cannot. Reason cannot justify the depravity of man, the dark twisted nature of beasts driven by blood, lust and greed. Time will see the pain of loss fade, the burning lash of the whip become nothing more than a mere memory. Wounds become scar tissue, the mind's blanket to mask the facture of insanity, lessening the pain. But it is always there, never truly gone, just out of sight and out of mind. The wounds will always remain. In the dark attics of our minds, time begins to mingle. It becomes twisted, a depraved cycle of vicious inevitability. Forever was a very long time; eternity would not heal wounds such as his.

Time would see the damage fester. Time had made him a monster.

Klaus could still remember the first time his father had laid waste to his innocence. He'd been naught but a young boy, a child who'd known no better, clumsy and sorry for the mess he'd made. If he closed his eyes, Klaus could still feel the force of his father's fist upon his brow. He remembered everything, every word and every wrong he had ever done, every crime he had ever committed.

Too slow, too stupid; the useless imbecile, the bastard mouth that was nothing but a burden, a dark blight on the man he'd called father's honour. Every wound had imprinted a dark bitterness into his soul.

He was a product of time.

Klaus had thought, almost foolishly, that Mikael's death would bring him peace. The satisfaction of driving the white oak stake through the man's heart, the thrill of knowing that his torment was finally at an end, that Mikael could hurt him no more was a thing of true beauty. But the joke was on him, it seemed.

The Other Side was on the brink of collapse if what the Bennett witch said was true. It was not enough that he had to deal with Marcellus, his little warrior who raged a winless war, or that the witches' had turned on him or that Hayley was very near her due date, inextricably tethered to the mercy of those that wished to depose her rule as leader of the Crescent Werewolves. The Bayou bombing had been about her, of that he was certain. Klaus only hoped that whoever intended to depose Hayley, to usurp her birthright as leader, had enough sense not to cross his brother.

And it was not enough, not nearly enough, that he was to become a father...

Mikael was the ever-present fester that turned his mind, his trust and his soul black. After a thousand years of torment, of running in terror, it had been far too easy to kill him. He'd been a fool to think that it was over. Mikael would never stop hunting him, hurting him.

Not even in death.

They were all creatures of vengeance shaped by the bitterness of time. There was so little he had not done, so little he had not seen. The world had been his sandpit, malleable to his hands and his will alone. He could build or destroy, cultivate or lay waste to anything he wished. And he had. Time had stolen his capacity to care. He'd wiped out entire families, entire bloodlines, on a whim; cities burned at his command, bodies lined the streets if he so wished it. Klaus had killed, he'd tortured and tormented, destroyed and vilified, and through it all he'd never had a reason to truly care.

Until her.

She was the Persephone to his Hades; the sweet temptation he could not resist.

Such a forceful little thing she was, so wilful and beautifully naive. She was innocent, untouched by time's corruption and free from the bitter reality of having lived too many lifetimes. It was her youth, her young mind, her morals; somehow, through all the death, through all the terror, she'd found a way to remain pure, to remain true to herself. It was that will, that sense of light and beauty and innocence that drew him to her. She was untouchable, too good for him, and entirely incorruptible; a challenge, if there ever was one. But he didn't want to corrupt her, to lay waste to her innocence.

He'd only ever wanted to be close to her.

His path was a lonesome one. She made the isolation seem bearable; this solitary life of his, so surrounded and yet so utterly friendless, alone in the hollow little life he led. She made him want more. And, against his better judgement, she made him _care_.

The Bennett witch had called and he'd run, like a fool, to her rescue.

He'd once asked her if champagne was their 'thing'. Such a silly little notion, so blissfully naive. Champagne was not their 'thing'.

This was.

Caroline was a weakness, a chink in his invincible armour. It didn't matter if Marcel waged war, if the witches promised death. It didn't matter that New Orleans had become a festering pit, a boiling pot ready to explode. None of it mattered, not when Mikael's name was uttered in the same sentence as hers.

He'd run, a creature of vengeance and bitterness, a monster for all intents and purposes, scared out of his mind, scared that he would be too late. Mikael had come to him and Elijah in their dreams, attacked Hayley and all but promised death. He'd been a fool to think that the man would stop there.

Mikael always found a weakness.

And he'd finally found his.

It was indescribable, the sight of her lying there, broken and battered, bloodied and yet still wilful. She'd never looked more beautiful to him, raw in her despair and so utterly unguarded. He hated himself for leaving her, for promising what he had, but he'd had no choice. She was wilful and stubborn, ignorant of her own truth, of her own wants and desires; to push her was to lose her. He knew that about her, just as he knew that no promise, no vow, could stop him from coming back to her.

Not now.

She was a pulling force and Mikael knew, somehow, that if she called, that if she was in danger, he would drop everything to come for her.

And he had.

"Elijah has Genevieve working on a way to block father from harming Hayley or the baby," Rebekah's voice interrupted the silence, clipped and hurried as she entered the room.

He felt Caroline jump slightly at the sound of his sister's voice. Klaus looked at the blonde he had tucked securely under one arm, frowning at the slightly glazed look in her eyes. After the incident in the study hall, after commanding his sister to call Elijah, after swallowing his own panic, he'd whisked the blonde away. She was bruised and battered and bloody, the very picture of a fallen angel.

He'd expected anger, resentment, perhaps even a little betrayal; there were no words of contempt, no false accusations about honour or his dignity. Caroline had been disturbingly quiet for one so small, so fiery and wilful in her honesty. He'd expected her to hate him, to rage and yell and fight. It seemed that Mikael had stolen all her will, her ability to fight or care. She looked exhausted and so small by his side, a mere shadow of the light he once knew. It tore at him, hurt him to see her this way. Which, in the end, was exactly what Mikael wanted.

"Nik?" he looked to his baby sister, saw the insecurity, the hesitancy in her face. He'd set her free and even now, despite it all, she still feared him and his reaction. "I've organised for a plane at the airport. We can be back in New Orleans by this afternoon."

Ever the dutiful sister.

Klaus smiled softly, almost wryly, and looked down at the hand he had curled instinctively around Caroline's knee. It was so natural to touch her, so natural for her to not react with feigned disgust now that they'd moved past that stage in their relationship. It was natural to protect her, to want to comfort her.

New Orleans was his home. He had a child to think about now. And yet, in spite of everything he had waiting for him upon his return, all the responsibilities and loose ends, Klaus couldn't think of anything he wanted to do _less. _He didn't want to leave her again. Especially not now, not when Mikael had made it his mission to torment such a sweet soul. He wouldn't forgive himself if something happened to her and he'd left. Klaus knew he would not be able to deal with that kind of guilt.

He smiled at his sister, the slight curve of his lips lifting not in derision or disdain as was so often the case, but in gratitude. Rebekah was many things; a liar, a betrayer, loyal to a fault and still, no matter her crime, his baby sister. Her past sins were washed clean the moment she came to Caroline's aid. For that, his gratitude would remain eternal.

"Thank you, Bekah," he licked his lips, eyes travelling around the dorm room Caroline had called home for the past seven months. It was nice – human, but nice enough he supposed. His girl had no doubt made a hovel look like a home. "But that won't be necessary."

His sister's eyes narrowed in consternation but it was not her voice that brokered argument.

"You have to go back," Caroline spoke sharply, finally twisting her leg out from under his hand. His words had sparked something within her, kindled the fire he'd feared his father had snuffed out. She looked so righteous in her anger; a kitten who thought its claws bigger than the tiger's.

Klaus let his amusement show in the lines of his face, enjoying the flash of indignation in her eyes. "I don't _have_ to do anything, sweetheart."

"But –"

The ferocity of her ire painted such a pretty picture. _This_ was the girl he'd fallen for. Not the shadow Mikael had tried, and thankfully failed, to turn her into.

"I never took you for a silly little girl, Caroline. Stupidity is beneath you," perhaps it was cruel to bait her so, but he did love the shade she turned in her anger, the bright hue of violence creeping up the arch of her neck. And what a pretty shade of red it was. Klaus grinned wolfishly. "If you think for one minute that I would leave you at my father's mercy, then you are sorely mistaken._ Both_ of you."

Rebekah seemed to shrink back at the look he levelled her with. She had thought that he'd leave, both of them did. He could see it in the shared glance, the taught unease of his sister's shoulder, the twitch of Caroline's jaw as she bit back some snide little response. These were the women in his life, the women he chose to love, two of what would soon become three. He knew them better than they liked to think.

"If you stay then Mikael wins," Caroline spoke softly, resolutely, from her seat beside him.

Klaus allowed himself a moment to admire her determination. No words she could possibly say would sway his mind. "Then he wins. A temporary victory means nothing if he cannot win the war."

And this was war.

The moment Mikael had laid eyes on Caroline he had made it so.

"And New Orleans?"

He knew what she alluded to, knew by the masked hurt in her eyes that someone had made her aware of his...situation, as it were. And judging by his sister's unease, he knew exactly who that someone was. He would deal with that little detail later. As it was, there was little he could do to change the past. It would do nothing to dwell on what he should have done and instead, what he had to do.

Yes, he should have told her. But he was an inherently selfish man and he knew that if he had, any chance, any feelings she may have confessed for him would have been buried under judgement and denial. She'd told him to leave both in the woods and not a few hours ago. She'd begged him to go back to New Orleans.

_I'm the distraction. _

He didn't care.

He'd happily be distracted by her for every day of his life if she'd allow it. But she knew about Hayley – what a poor judgement that had been – and the baby, so he knew, deep down, that distraction or not, his time with her was limited. Klaus would take what he could get in the hope that one day, when Mikael was dead – his ghost obliterated from existence – and all his enemies in their grave, that she would finally give him a chance.

_And New Orleans? _It was such a loaded question and yet, his answer remained simple.

"New Orleans will keep."

It would be there when he returned. Hayley would be there, as would his child, bound by Elijah's indomitable sense of family and the little wolf's pack of crescents.

New Orleans would keep.

Caroline, if Mikael had his way, would not.

He could see the fire in her eyes, the deep burn of discontent she felt at his answer.

"Think what you will of me, love," Klaus smiled down at her, reaching to tuck a bloody curl behind her ear. "Think me a monster, if you want. A cold-hearted bastard, if it makes you feel better. But I will not leave you to Mikael's mercy for he has _none_. He will tear you to pieces in the end and if he does, if I am not here to stop him, then I will paint the world red. I promise you that."

Every creek, every river, ocean and lake; he would see the water run bloody in his rage.

He would not lose her. He couldn't.

Tears welled in her eyes and Klaus vaguely registered his sister slipping silently out of the room. This was a private moment between he and Caroline. She'd seen that, known not to push her luck more than she already had by telling Caroline the truth.

"And your daughter?" she asked, slapping away his hand as it reached for her tears. Caroline licked her lips and grimaced, eyeing him with such despairing disdain. A mask, if he ever saw one. "Will you paint the world red if he kills her?"

Would he?

Yes. He supposed he would.

He'd grown uncomfortably attached to the little bump. It's mother, not so much. And despite the fact that the mere idea of fatherhood terrified him – he was a thousand year-old hybrid, a monster, a murderer, vicious in his vengeance, a creature set in his ways; Klaus was not the type to read bedtime stories or change dirty diapers – he was not opposed to the idea of having someone that was truly _his. _The child would be a part of him. For that reason alone, he supposed he would paint the world crimson if she were to die.

He would not lose her.

He would not lose Caroline either.

Klaus was, if anything, a truly selfish man.

"I daresay Elijah will have everything under control," he replied nonchalantly, avoiding her question and trying again to reach for her, to wipe away the few stray tears she'd let fall. But again, she slapped his hand away. Klaus frowned at the rejection, eyes hardening. "I trust my brother's misplaced affection for the wolf will ensure her and my child's longevity."

Caroline scoffed at his words. "You're unbelievable."

So they were back to this then; back to the distaste, the mistrust, the feigned contempt. Klaus knew he'd hurt her. Hayley and the child, they would forever be a sore between them. He'd known that from the beginning. It didn't matter if she accepted it, moved beyond the reality of his impending fatherhood. Hayley would always be there, in the back of her mind, a symbol of her, once again, being s_econd. _He knew Caroline better than she knew herself. It was why he knew her contempt stemmed from hurt and not hatred.

His hands moved to frame her face. She fought his hold, but Klaus remained steadfast. She would look at him as he said this. She would not turn her head or pretend that she didn't care. He would not let her hide.

"I will not lose you."

Her blue eyes turned hard. "You can't lose what you don't have."

Her words were soft but their impact hit him hard, a blow he had not expected, and Klaus recoiled at the rejection.

"And I don't have you?" he asked with a quiet harshness, jaw clenched.

"No."

Klaus licked his lips, a dark smile on his lips as he regarded her unwavering belief. "Not even a crumb? Not one little sliver of you cares about me?"

He watched her swallow thickly, relishing in her unease.

He'd caught her in her lie.

And she knew it.

"I don't think I'd be able to forgive myself if he killed her," Caroline confessed softly. Her lip quivered slightly at the admission and the truth behind her words rattled him. "I hate you for Hayley. She made my life a living hell and instead of hunting her down, like you did Tyler, you decided that sex was a more fitting punishment."

"To be fair, Tyler's not exactly my type," he offered lightly, trying to coax a smile from the weary blonde.

Caroline levelled him with a glare. "You're not funny."

No, he didn't suppose he was.

"Alcohol and rejection are not exactly conducive to strong decision making love," he replied with a half shrug.

Klaus would not repent, if that was what she wished. He would not beg for her forgiveness. What was done, was done. All he could do now was be truthful and hope that she understood.

"If you don't go back and Mikael hurts her – Klaus, I can't live with that kind of guilt," her voice was beseechingly beautiful in its confession. "I can't be responsible for an innocent baby bei –"

"Mikael will not touch her," that too was a promise. He took her head in his hands once more, committing to memory every line, every freckle on her face. She was afraid of being responsible for his daughter's death, a child whose very existence cut at her core. Klaus had truly never seen anything more beautiful, more bitterly sweet than Caroline Forbes in her martyrdom. "Elijah and Rebekah, they will not allow it. _I _will not allow it."

"But –"

Her voice was low and sweet and pained, but he cut her off. "There is more chance of me stopping him here than there is in New Orleans. Your witch friend explained to me what has been happening here. This Markos and the Travellers; I know your plan is to kill the warlock. Let me help you, love."

The gentle bob of her throat as she swallowed drew his eye to the arch of her neck. She was white marble, smooth and cold, indescribably beautiful. He could remember her taste, the reverberating pleasure of her sigh. Klaus would give anything to taste her, to have her just one more time.

"Liv called you?"

Klaus blinked at the question, gaze travelling from her pulse point to the blue confusion of her eyes. His mind faltered at the name and then he remembered. Liv was the curly-haired blonde the Bennett witch had insisted accompany them when he'd first arrived. He'd felt the flow of power as she'd tried to contain Mikael's spirit. Her presence had been inconsequential at the time, but now his mind registered the power, the possibility. If Davina could block Mikael, then perhaps this witch could too.

But Liv had not been the one to call him.

"I suppose she's not a witch anymore, is she?" he smiled wryly, realising the mistake in his words. It was strange to think of the Bennett girl as the Anchor and not a witch.

"Bonnie then," Caroline sighed, pursing her lips. His eyes were drawn to her mouth as her tongue darted out, moistening their cracked surface. Klaus could see the change in her. She was a beautiful mess, unkempt and yet still the loveliest creature he had ever laid eyes on.

"Let me help. Let me protect _both _of you."

She sighed at the softness of his plea. Klaus meant what he'd said; he would not leave her. It was a promise she knew he meant to keep as resignation finally filtered through the lines of her face.

Caroline pulled away from him, moving to stand before the small fireplace. He could see the tension in her shoulders, the resigned slump of acceptance in her stance. He wanted to say something but remained silent, waiting for her to say the words, wanting to hear his victory announced in the clipped tones of her subtle voice.

She turned to look at him, eyes hard and mouth set in a firm line. Her voice brokered no room for argument. "No funny business. What happened in the woods was a onetime thing. There will not be an encore."

He grinned wolfishly, enjoying the subtle reaction his answering smile drew from the blonde. She was not immune to his charms, no matter what she said.

Caroline Forbes _craved_ him.

He'd made sure to ruin her for any other man.

"I will be the picture of innocence love, a perfect gentleman."

Caroline scoffed at his words, the exaggerated roll of her eyes making her look only more beautiful, more blissfully young and unsullied by the bitterness of time, in his eyes.

Klaus grinned.

He was nothing if not a liar.

* * *

**Feedback, as always, is the apple of my eye and I would love to know what you all thought of this. **

**I had so much fun writing Klaus.**

**Till next time ;)**


	9. Chapter Nine

**Thank you all again! So sorry for the wait but work has been hectic. The next chapter may be longer in the making still :(**

**This is a slight filler chapter but necessary for plot progression. **

**Happy Reading!**

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The thinly veiled hostility and friction in the room, the tremble of poorly suppressed anxiety and apprehension was entirely too intense to be bearable. Her foot tapped nervously under the table, knee bouncing at such a rapid speed that she wasn't entirely sure the tempo was 'human'. Not that she really cared; the tension in the room was so thick a chainsaw wouldn't be able to cut through it.

There was something to be said about witches and their inexplicable need to provoke the one creature on earth that really didn't mind eating every single person they'd ever known or cared about. He'd even eat the milkman; Klaus was nothing if not thorough. And really, it wasn't her fault that the curly-haired witch had decided to get all twitchy because her spell had failed.

Caroline understood the witch's hesitation. Liv had enough to deal with trying to stop Markos and the Travellers, and the fact that her coven seemed to question her and her brother's handling of the doppelgangers. The fact that Liv had even come to her aid at Bonnie's behest was more than Caroline could really ask for. If the witch hadn't tried to contain Mikael's spirit then it was a very real possibility that she wouldn't be here right now. And yet, loathe as she was to do it, Caroline had to ask for more. Liv was their only chance to understand just what it was they were dealing with. She was also their only practicing witch.

As it turned out, Klaus wasn't very diplomatic when it came to asking for help. His little kingdom – or whatever the hell he wanted to call it – back in New Orleans hadn't exactly changed that character flaw about him. Klaus demanded and threatened and then demanded some more. It would have all gone so much smoother if he'd simply let her talk.

But no, Hybrid knew best.

Caroline's foot tapped furiously as she surreptitiously surveyed the four angry figures around the table. Liv looked downright defiant, the lone idiot who knew not to poke the dragon when he was angry. Someone really should have told her about Klaus and the one hundred and one things not to do to provoke him – like say _no_.

Subtle annoyance seemed to emanate from Rebekah as the blonde original eyed her brother with irritable unease. And Matt just looked – well, the whole 'I'll rip out your innards and hand feed your whole family' line hadn't been exactly pleasant or overly friendly on Klaus' part, despite the charming smile on the hybrid's face. To be honest, Caroline thought his threats were starting to get a little old and long in the tooth.

And then, of course, there was Klaus himself; ever the turbulent, impulsive diplomat whose penchant for violence outweighed his common sense and capability of rational thought. Caroline tried not to think about the last few hours, about Mikael or Stefan, or the way Klaus had carried her back to her dorm, tucked securely in his arms like some wounded little bird, fragile and entirely too breakable for her liking.

She wasn't breakable despite what he thought, despite what all of them thought. She wasn't some damsel in need of a knight. Caroline could take care of herself, albeit not very well at the moment all things considered, but she was doing okay on her own. She didn't mind being the David to Mikael's Goliath. She didn't need Klaus.

Or rather, she didn't _want_ to need him.

Caroline wanted to hate him. A small part of her did, but there was this larger part, this feeling she'd buried beneath layers and layers of contempt and guilt that couldn't help but care, even after years of him making her life – her friends' lives – a living hell. She w_anted _to hate him so completely, without pause or question, and yet instead she simply _understood. _

Caroline didn't want to understand why Klaus had done half the things he had. It would take a long time for her to forgive him for Hayley, especially after everything the wolf had put her through. But try as she might, Caroline couldn't resent the child. As long as it stayed out of sight and out of mind, it was a non-issue. Or at least, that was what she told herself.

Klaus being here was just about the worst thing she could possibly imagine. Feigned contempt could only last so long. And he stole her will to say no; there were only so many times a girl could withstand the advances of a man whose charm, whose very scent and salacious grin, brought back memories of broken trees and a bed of fallen Autumn leaves.

_I will not lose you. _

How could she say no to a man who'd promised to tear the world asunder, to paint it red if he lost her? Such a beautifully ominous and disturbing promise; it made her feel strangely powerful to command such a reaction. She both loved and hated the intoxication of the feeling. Klaus was a potential addiction that would see all her plans fall by the wayside.

She didn't want to need him.

She_ couldn't_ need him.

"I would think very carefully over your next words, _witch_," Klaus' voice threatened lowly, the ghost of a charming smile on his lips.

Caroline closed her eyes in frustration.

No, she didn't _want _to need him.

Especially not when he was being such a pompous, self-righteous arse.

"Like I told you and your sister and your pretty little blonde girlfriend before," the witch leaned forward, her elbows resting atop the table. Caroline frowned darkly at the curly blonde's choice of words.

She was absolutely _not _his girlfriend, thank you very much!

"A spell like the one you want me to do is just not possible. I have barely enough energy as it is after trying to contain your father's spirit – a thank you would be nice, by the way – and you want me to block him from _her _mind?" Liv continued, nodding her head toward Caroline with a sarcastic smile. "Sorry honey but I ain't got that much juice left."

Caroline licked her lips nervously, noticing the dark tint shadowing Klaus' eyes. She hurried to interrupt the conversation, foot still tapping, to steer them down a somewhat safer path. If she knew Klaus, _and she did _know Klaus, then he would absolutely be stupid enough to piss off the one witch they had in their arsenal. The blonde's brother was pretty much useless, all things considered.

"That's like – totally fine," Caroline chimed in with forced happiness, her bubbly Miss Mystic persona on show. "You should probably save your... _juice_ – or whatever – for more important things like taking down Markos. He is kind of our only lead to fixing the Other Side."

The look on Liv's face, Caroline couldn't quite decipher what it was but it left her with a burgeoning sense of dread in the pit of her stomach. The witch seemed to sense her need, her neurotic sense of desperation and smiled almost softly.

"The Other Side can't be fixed," Liv spoke with such quiet certainty, a sorry expression on her face.

What?

_It couldn't be fixed_.

Markos' death wouldn't fix the tear he'd made; it wouldn't trap Mikael in the spirit world.

That couldn't be...

Caroline felt a little of her previous hope fade.

"What do you mean it can't be fixed?" Rebekah's voice snapped.

Liv smiled tartly, running a tired hand over her face and turned to face the blonde. "Markos damaged the Other Side beyond repair when he came back from the dead. There is no fixing that kind of damage. Your best bet at stopping your father, if he really is trying to find a way back before the spirit world literally implodes, is by either killing the witch that's helping him or finding a way to tear down the Other Side before he gets through."

It made sense, in a way, that Mikael would have a witch helping him. Markos had used the death of his people to overwhelm Bonnie; that had been his ticket to slip through the cracks, as it were. That type of spell, it would be impossible for any of them to recreate without a willing Traveller to teach them. And even then, Caroline highly doubted that it would work a second time. Not without destroying Bonnie in the process. While that may have been a viable option for Klaus, it was not for her.

Bonnie was off limits.

She watched Klaus' ire rise; the tick in his jaw as his muscles clenched alluded to the building storm within. He was mad. Not crazy mad, not seething mad but mad; the kind of mad that laid waste to entire civilisations. The world, or maybe it was Mystic Falls – she didn't really know – burned in his eyes, the flames of his rage turning his irises an emboldened amber.

"_Davina_."

He spoke to himself, silent thunder rippling through the gentle lilt in his voice. The name was a promise, a quiet, unescapable promise of death. She should have been afraid for this Davina, whoever she was. Klaus' look spoke volumes; it promised a painful and no doubt awful end for the witch, if the girl was a witch. But Caroline couldn't bring herself to care for the unknown stranger. If she was fool enough to go against Klaus, to side with Mikael, then perhaps she deserved the tsunami headed her way.

Rebekah shook her head vehemently, wishfully hopeful that her brother was wrong. Caroline wondered just who this Davina was. "You can't know that."

"No," Klaus shook his head in admittance. And yet, his face bore the pointed expression of certainty. "But it is a solid guess. I'd wager our little conspirator is in New Orleans, wouldn't you?"

So it was New Orleans that burned in his eyes.

Caroline wondered, not for the first time, what it was about the place that was so appealing. His voicemail all those months ago – it seemed like a lifetime had passed – spoke of art and music and culture. She knew they were the lifeblood of a soul as fractured as his. He drowned himself in beautiful things, wondrous things so full of life and splendour; the kind of things a man could do naught but stand back and admire, wonder at and think how small his life was in comparison.

It was the Louvre, the Colosseum, the Great Wall of China, India's Taj Mahal; she saw him there, in her mind, as clear as day.

New Orleans was so...small a comparison in her mind. She'd have to see the place, to drown herself in its culture to understand just what it was the Originals' were so drawn to. Perhaps, it was the sense of home. Rebekah's story replayed in her mind; the sad tale of a family who'd found peace, who'd built something for themselves, only to see it burn at their father's hands and their hope with it. Perhaps that was it; nostalgia was a powerful mistress when she wanted to be.

"I'll call Elijah," Rebekah frowned, her lips pursed and brow furrowed in displeasure. "Again."

"Look, I'm sorry about your father being a total dickhead," Liv declared, visibly embolden by the presence of her still beating heart. Klaus hadn't killed her yet. There was still time, though. "Your father's not my problem. Stopping Markos is my priority."

Which was quite possibly the worst thing the witch could have said at that given moment.

Klaus couldn't care less about Markos, Caroline knew that. As far as the hybrid was concerned, Markos was an annoyance when paired against Mikael. And quite frankly, she felt the same way. Yes, the warlock meant to undo all magic – whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. It was frightening and his dogged pursuit of her two best friends left little to be desired, but in the grand scheme of things – Caroline would much rather deal with the warlock than a breathing, fully functioning mass murderer who'd promised to chop her into tiny little pieces to get back at his son for a thousand years of sullied honour.

But then again, maybe she was a little bit biased.

"Am I seriously the only one here that doesn't see a problem with that?" Matt's voice interrupted the moment and she turned to him in surprise. He wore the expression of one unamused. He was tired, worried and more than a little bit out of his depth. Caroline could see his unease in the tense line of his shoulders. "Markos is going to do a spell that literally undoes _all _magic i.e. no vampires, no witches, no werewolves and _no hybrids_. None of you will be alive to fight Mikael if the Travellers do their spell. You'll all be _dead_. I'd say that takes priority."

_I'll be damned. _

She hadn't thought of it like that. She'd been far too distracted to see beyond the initial threat, not its long term effect on her or her friends, not even Klaus or his family. And, judging from Rebekah and her brother's expression – not to mention Liv's conceited and overly pleased smirk – neither had they.

"Well, well, well," Klaus leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms as he assessed Matt with a newfound interest. "It looks like your quarterback has some brains after all, little sister."

Matt frowned at the hybrid's words and Caroline gritted her teeth. Before Rebekah could speak, barbed insult on the tip of her tongue, Caroline found her hand moving of its own accord and, before she could stop herself, she'd hit the hybrid up the backside of his head.

Klaus' body stiffened at the action and she felt a small spark of fear coil in her abdomen. Caroline ignored it and held her head impossibly high, choosing to overlook the fact that she'd just hit the most powerful being on the planet over the back of his head like he was some naughty little school boy.

Caroline smiled sweetly at the dark look he gave her. Klaus wouldn't hurt her. "Play nice."

The hybrid growled in response to his sister's answering chuckle, levelling the blonde with a glacial glare before rounding on her once again. "If you were anyone else –"

"It's a good thing I'm not then, isn't it?" she cut him off with an exasperated roll of her eyes.

Klaus was used to being treated as superior to everyone else. It was why he had such a god-complex and felt the need to be feared, to use violence and terror instead of mercy as his motivational tools of choice. Caroline refused to fear him. He was just a man, underneath it all, who was lonely and bitter and needed a reality check. Yes, he was _the _Big Bad. But he couldn't just go around killing people and threatening them if he wanted to inspire loyalty; time and history had proven such methods useless.

"Our best bet is to work together on this," Caroline continued, ignoring the intensity of Klaus' gaze to focus on the witch. Liv needed to be won over and if there was one thing Caroline Forbes was good at, it was talking. "Trust me when I say that we want to stop Markos just as much as you do. But you have to realise Liv that Mikael – imagine the worst being you possibly can, the darkest, most vindictive, vile and bloodthirsty monster to ever walk the Earth – he hunted his children for over a thousand years, burning cities to the ground and endless innocents with them. You don't want him walking around out there."

Caroline could see the gears churning in the witch's mind as she contemplated her words. Liv grimaced and then sighed. "What would you have me do?"

Caroline smiled in triumph, turning her overly bright – and slightly smug – smile on Klaus. Playing nice was a much more effective method than the age old 'do-as-I-say-or-die' routine.

"Help us destroy the Other Side," she said, watching as Rebekah and Matt leaned forward. "And we'll help you kill Markos before we do. It's kind of a given anyway."

Markos was after Stefan and Elena. He'd already tried to drain them of their doppelganger blood to do his spell. Thankfully, the warlock's blood supply had been ruined by the Traveller that had helped her friends escape. Maria; she was the girlfriend, or wife – it didn't really matter – of the parasite that had taken over the former love of her life's body. Even though her actions were driven by selfish motives, the woman had bought them some time to regroup.

"Destroying the Other Side means destroying all the souls trapped over there," the witch spoke in a measured tone, her eyes narrowed and critical in their assessment. She was trying to judge their reaction, as if her words held some sort of hidden meaning they were all supposed to understand.

Destroying the Other Side would mean destroying Alaric and Stefan's Lexi, even Enzo. The dead couldn't begrudge the living for trying to survive. Caroline had rationalised and accepted that. Sometimes, in war, sacrifices had to be made.

"They're all being wiped out anyway," Matt spoke softly, a pained expression on his face. He swallowed thickly. "I saw Vicki – she was dragged out by something – and Kol, he said it was only getting worse."

Caroline felt her heart constrict at Matt's words. She hadn't known he'd seen Vicki.

"Kol?" Rebekah and Klaus asked at the same time, both sister and brother wearing equal expressions of confusion, hope and bitterness.

_Kol Mikaelson._

Caroline grimaced, realising her mistake, her idiocy for disregarding the buoyant younger brother who'd tried to warn them all, who'd died at Jeremy and Elena's hands, who'd known from the beginning that the Cure and Silas would bring only hellfire and death upon them all.

Matt nodded, reaching out to grab Rebekah's hand. He squeezed it reassuringly. "He'd want you to destroy it. I mean – he was scared but, he'd want you to destroy it if it meant stopping Mikael."

"And you know our brother so well, do you?" Klaus intoned darkly, eyes a beautiful amber.

She remembered his devastation, his rage. How could she possibly forget?

"Klaus don't," she reached for his hand, laying her palm atop his closed fist. She could see his anger, his need for violence bubbling away under the surface. "Please."

Rebekah nodded, offering her brother a bittersweet smile. "Matt's right, Nik. You saw how desperate Kol was to stop Silas. He'd be the same with father _and _with Markos."

His jaw was clenched, taught with bitter remembrance of his brother's corpse. Caroline licked her lips, thumb rubbing a soothing pattern across his knuckles. She understood the pain and took no comfort in knowing that it had been her friends – and to some degree her – who'd inflicted it. There was no good or evil in the world; it was not as simple as black or white.

It was all grey.

Klaus nodded stiffly at the witch, pushing down the violence in his eyes. His voice was clipped and controlled when he spoke. "Do we have a bargain?"

"You still want me to do the spell to stop your father from invading Caroline's pretty little head, don't you?" Liv asked with a sharp laugh, shaking her head at his nerve to ask for what she'd already denied.

"And from hurting her physically," Matt piped up, his chin raised in stiff determination.

He may have been out of his depth, the token human at a table of supernaturals, but Matt Donovan was nothing if not loyal. Caroline knew she could always count on him to stand up for her, even when she really didn't need it.

"You boys never give up do you?" the witch asked, appreciative of their determination. She looked from Klaus to Matt, taking note of their answering stony resilience. "Alright. Consider it an act of good faith that you won't stab me in the back and I won't stab you," Liv inclined her toward Caroline, a small smile on her lips. "Besides, you're alright for a vampire."

"And you're alright for a witch," Caroline replied, face impassive.

_Who didn't have enough _juice_ left twenty minutes ago to even contemplate doing the spell, _Caroline thought sourly.

Matt grinned lightly, seeing the anger in her eyes. "Don't let Bonnie hear you say that."

"Speaking of, where is the Anchor?" Liv asked, ignorant to the silent resentment surrounding her.

Caroline licked her lips, starting in surprise as strong fingers curled around her hand. She looked up to see Klaus' answering smirk, his large hand enclosed around her smaller one.

"She took Stefan back to Mystic Falls," Caroline said sharply, trying to tug her hand unsuccessfully free from the hybrid's. He was going to push his luck if he wasn't careful. At Liv's wide, stony glare Caroline continued. "Was that not a smart move?"

The witch threw a barbed smile at her, eyes hard. "Considering that's where Markos is, I'd say _not_."

Well shit.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Elena was holed up at her parent's lake house with Luke, the witch bitch's useless brother, doing some sort of protection/cloaking spell to keep the Travellers away after what had happened last time. Bonnie had wanted to take Stefan there, while Damon dealt with the whole Tyler/Julian saga and Markos.

Maybe they should have moved them somewhere outside Mystic Falls. The more she thought about it, the more obvious it seemed. Mystic Falls was their home, but it wasn't safe anymore. It hadn't been for a very long time.

"I'll call Stefan after I'm done with Elijah and see if they can move," Rebekah replied nonchalantly, pushing her chair back. "It's all I seem to bloody do anyway."

The blonde original stretched and let out a tired yawn. It was getting late and they were all tired after the day they'd had, Caroline especially. First Stefan, then Mikael, her talk with Klaus and now the little mini-meeting with the witch; Caroline really was exhausted.

Matt moved next, coming to stand beside Rebekah and she couldn't help but notice the glance the two shared. Despite herself, Caroline smiled.

Rebekah turned on the witch, eyes tinted with sharp dislike. "Do get on with the spell before my brother loses his patience and kills you despite his better judgement," Rebekah smiled tartly at her brother. "Not that he really has any, mind you. Your death would put a bit of a chink in our plan now wouldn't it?"

Her message was clear.

_Don't kill the witch. _

Klaus simply grimaced in response and turned away.

The original made her exit, quarterback in tow and Caroline couldn't help but laugh softly at the picture they painted. A low yawn escaped her and she felt Klaus' hand tug hers. He nodded at the witch, pulling Caroline to stand.

"Come on love," his voice was beautifully soft and soothing, his hand warm as it pulled her toward the exit. Liv reluctantly but obediently followed. "Let's get you to bed."

She saw his smirk and sighed, too tired to come up with some sharp retort at his choice of words.

Picture of innocence, her arse.

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**Love it or hate it, let me know. **

**Personally this isn't one of my favourite chapters, so hopefully it's not as terrible as I'm imagining it to be. **

**Till next time ;)**


	10. Chapter Ten

**Apologies for the wait. This took longer than I anticipated, especially since I got sidetracked by a two-shot – so yeah, sorry for that. **

**Hopefully this chapter's content will make up for my bad habits. **

**I've tried to integrate a pivotal moment in one of the shows into this, but in my own way and with my own twist. Let me know what you think.**

**Happy Reading!**

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She snored.

Caroline Forbes, former Miss Mystic Falls, the picture of perfection and quite possibly the loveliest creature he had ever had the privilege to lay eyes upon, _snored_.

Klaus grinned lightly at the soft, wheezing puffs that escaped her beautifully scrunched up nose. It was endearing to hear the gentle whine as she breathed out, her chest rising and falling so deeply and so calmly he found himself envious. She slept so soundly, so unguardedly; her eyes were closed, her face beautifully lax in the stillness. She deserved to dream such wonderful dreams, to be lost to the exquisiteness of peace. Her body was curled around the feather pillow, hands tucked beneath its softness. She was the incarnation of loveliness; soft, sweet and supple, so innocent in her youth and so positive of the future, unaware and blissfully naive to the danger of time.

Time would change her, morph her innocence into something darker. It was an inevitable side-effect of their lifestyle, of 'their kind' and the baser instincts that came with being a vampire. But it wouldn't change her too much, he didn't think. Caroline was nothing if not stubborn.

It had been amusing to watch her stamp her little feet, heels clicking snappily against the hardwood floor. Her nose had scrunched just so, the flip of her hair, the heat of her eyes as those lips of hers pursed almost sinfully in displeasure; Klaus relished in the burn of her ire. God, he'd missed her and her adorable little tantrums. She was a firecracker, his girl.

Oh how she'd raged, disapproval etched into her every line, when he'd refused to leave after the witch had done her spell. _I don't need a guard dog Klaus, seriously just go and whoosh yourself away somewhere and – I don't know – find some unsuspecting townsfolk to snack on or something. Go be murderery and moody elsewhere. _It was creepy, she'd said, him wanting to stay and watch her as she slept.

Klaus didn't find his concern so trivial. He didn't know their new witch and he certainly didn't trust in her or her spell. Witches in general had proven to be somewhat of a thorn in his side lately, so he wasn't exactly inclined to leave Caroline alone and unprotected. He'd come up with some platitude and let her think she was in control, leaving only to return when he knew that she was safely asleep.

He couldn't afford to lose her.

The sound of the door clicking open quietly, followed by the familiar tread of Louis Vuitton heels, disrupted the silence of his vigil. It was ridiculous that it had come to this. He was over a thousand years old and yet here he sat, watching like some bloody sentinel a nineteen year-old drama major as if she were a seraphim sent from heaven. He wasn't worried about being caught by her friends. They were off dealing with doppelganger relocation dramas.

His sister stood at the entryway, suddenly hesitant at finding him there. He noticed her apprehension in the tense rigidity of her stance. She had not expected his presence, he realised. It seemed that he was not the only one who had misgivings about Caroline's safety.

Rebekah bit her lip lightly, eyes resting on the sleeping girl to his right. She seemed to decide something then, as her eyes travelled back to his, bright blue in their defiance. He could tell her to leave if he wanted to, but Klaus didn't rather like the sensation of a stiletto imbedded in his shoulder.

He inclined his head to the empty chair by the fireplace and moved to stand by the fire. He heard the soft clunk of her shoes hitting the floor and then her light barefoot tread as she came to stand beside him. Klaus raised an eyebrow at the bottle she had clutched in her hand.

"Wine improves with age," she smiled impishly, a glimmer of the young girl who'd danced and laughed too loudly and too happily back in the 20's shining through. Rebekah shrugged lightly, taking a sip from the opened bottle before offering him a taste. "We _both_ improve with wine."

Klaus grinned lightly, taking the offered olive branch with a slight nod of agreement. They were a bit of a dastardly bunch, but ply them with liquor and even Elijah became moderately tolerable. He took a large mouthful of the wine, relishing the heady spice of the merlot as it slid down the back of his throat.

He eyed Rebekah out of the corner of his eye. He could smell the quarterback all over her and, perhaps, on any other day he would have made some snide remark or snapped the boy's neck. But Matt Donovan had proved his worth today and for that reason alone Klaus kept his mouth shut.

"Elijah is looking into our little witch problem," she murmured quietly, hand reaching for the bottle.

Rebekah was too blasé, too nonchalant. He knew all her tells, all the little quirks that made her forever his little sister. Klaus took another mouthful of the wine, watching the way she tried to sneak a glance at the sleeping blonde in the bed. Ever curious, little Bekah was, always sticking her nose in where it didn't belong.

"Good," he handed her the wine, pushing away from the fireplace to sit in the vacant chair.

His eyes were immediately drawn to Caroline, to the gentle rise and fall of her chest. She could rave at him later for invading her privacy, but he would watch her all night if he had to. New Orleans had brought with it distractions, poor yet beautiful imitations and fiery red enchantress' that served to dispel her from his mind. And yet, for all his efforts, Caroline Forbes continued to be the beguiling siren whose sharp smile and bright eyes had stolen his capability to move on.

She'd told him to leave and he had. The cruel bliss of that day had stayed with him all these months. To taste, to have but a touch, a glimpse of what could have been; Klaus hated her for her confession. It would have been so much easier if he'd simply let it be, if he'd let her and the idea of her go. She'd ruined him with her truth, because while it made him happy, so rapturously happy, he was a man who'd had but a taste of the spring and now craved more.

Blue-grey eyes watched him with hesitant curiosity but Klaus continued to observe the sleeping blonde. "I know you think me a fool for staying here," he remarked casually.

It had been an excuse at the time, rationalising his presence with their combined effort to end this warlock and fix the fracture he'd created. Klaus had never _had _to stay. But now, the witch said that it couldn't be fixed, that this Markos' death – while highly desirable considering the circumstances – would do nothing to stop the Other Side from collapse. New Orleans no doubt housed their father's co-conspirator; it made sense for him to leave.

And yet, he couldn't – not without her.

"I think you a fool most of the time," Rebekah spoke offhandedly, a teasing glimmer in her eye.

Klaus smile despite himself; ever curious and ever _cheeky, _his little sister.

"I should thank you for coming here," he admitted quietly, eyes travelling back to rest on tousled blonde curls and white cotton sheets. Klaus licked his lips and inclined his head toward the sleeping vampire. "For helping her."

Rebekah lifted her head, chin impossibly high as a sort of superciliousness crept into her features. "Yes, I daresay you probably should."

"Why _did _you come back here, Rebekah?" Klaus frowned, the question terse.

It had bothered him, left him somewhat puzzled as to why his sister, of all people, should come to Caroline's aid. From what he could remember, the two women hadn't exactly hit it off in the beginning. Rebekah had loathed the baby vampire and Caroline's disdain hadn't been subtle either. He understood his sister's want, _need_, to stop their father; it was her way of repenting for past sins. Her concern for Caroline however, left him at a bit of a loss.

"Matt called me," she replied simply, unconsciously shifting at the use of the quarterback's name. He idly wondered how Marcellus would take to the newfound competition for his sister's affections. Rebekah continued. "He is a good friend to her. Hell, he's a good _person_. I couldn't say no."

He could make some snide remark, some harsh witticism at the human boy's expense but he didn't. Call it personal growth or whatever, Klaus honestly didn't care about all this redemption nonsense. He was who he was; after a thousand years of living in a particular way, Klaus hardly thought it was possible to change 'his spots'. And yet, for his sister, he held his tongue and chose instead to remain tactile and somewhat genial.

"I'm glad that you didn't," his admittance drew a surprised glance from the blonde. Klaus didn't often do this but he felt – for once – that it was necessary. "Thank you, sister. Truly."

Rebekah opened and closed her mouth in disbelief, startled by the genuine nature of his gratitude. It stung a little to think that she would be so surprised by his show of appreciation, and yet Klaus knew that he had not exactly been the best big brother over the years.

"You really care about her, don't you?" she breathed out in wonder, eyes widening slightly. "This isn't just another one of your silly little obsessions. You _love_ her."

Love.

It was a vampire's greatest weakness. And yet, Caroline would argue the opposite.

Love was strength.

Caroline _was_ a weakness but she was also his greatest strength. She drove him to win, to be better.

"Yes," his nodded his head gently, brow furrowed and lifted his eyes to meet the astonished expression on his sister's face. "I suppose I do."

He loved her. Not that he really knew what love was or what it meant to him just yet. But Klaus did love her. She was a challenging light, something so unattainable that he could do nothing but crave her, want her, and relish in the ire of her eyes and the scorching heat of her disdain.

He loved her, faults and all.

And that terrified him.

"We had it wrong all along, didn't we?" Rebekah asked, shaking her head in disbelief. A small smile of wonder blossomed on her lips as she looked from his sleeping firecracker to the feigned nonchalance on his face. "About the baby being your chance at redemption."

Redemption.

It was almost laughable. Did they honestly believe that he could be redeemed, that his black soul could be turned grey, softened by shades of white? He'd lived too long to be redeemed. His child, his daughter, was an unknown entity to him. Truthfully, her existence terrified him also. And while he did love her – he was not so lost, not monster enough to not love his own child – Klaus didn't think that he could change who he was _for her_ like Elijah and Rebekah seemed to believe. He was far too selfish to ever truly change. And yet, he could try.

"I need you to do something for me, Bekah," his voice was hard, unquestionable in its demand for obedience. He was not asking for a favour, he was demanding one.

"What is it _this _time?" gone was the playful sister, the comfortable teasing and uncomfortable realisation among siblings. Rebekah knew his tone, knew his tells – the nuances that made him who he was – almost as well as he did hers. She knew a command when she heard one.

"I do not trust the witches. Their loyalty is brittle at best. They do what benefits their coven, not our family," Klaus reached for the bottle of wine, raising an eyebrow at the blonde's sudden defiance when she refused to hand it over. He leaned back with a dry smile, head tilted to the side. "It is time for you to go home, little sister."

Her eye narrowed infinitesimally. "And here I foolishly thought freedom meant I had a choice in the matter," Rebekah's voice rose, clipped and terse. "You told me to leave, Nik. You said I was _free_ to go and –"

He'd given her the freedom of her life, the freedom of banishment. Rebekah was a fool if she thought that she was ever _truly_ free of the shackles that bound their family.

Forever and Always.

What bitter shackles they were.

"You are," he interrupted her with a tight smile, rising from his seat in the armchair. Klaus lowered his voice as Caroline turned restlessly on her side, his tone dark with promise as he rounded on his sister. "If you don't wish to return to the family, then I will not force you to. But if something were to happen to my child because you refused to put your own selfish desires aside to –"

"That's rich coming from you!" she snapped, moving forward to stand directly in front of him. She was impossibly close, dangerously close to a man – no, a hybrid – whose impulse control and patience was quickly thinning. Rebekah swallowed thickly but remained resolute, her eyes hard and unforgiving, her voice the harsh whisper of a whip slicing through skin. "You're nothing but a _hypocrite_."

Although he did not move, although he did not blink at the accusation, the blow hit harder than he'd ever admit. He _was _a hypocrite in almost every sense of the word. A hypocrite on love, on life, loyalty, the bonds of family; Klaus had lived a life in chains, bound by his own insecurities that he'd never once stopped to consider the mockery that was his life. Love was a weakness, and yet he loved. Family above all, and yet he stuck his in boxes for centuries. Loyalty, where was his loyalty to them?

Klaus saw, in that instant, the reality of his sister's truth.

"I can't lose her, Bekah," his whispered confession took them both by surprise. He'd never done this before, not truly. "Please. I can't lose either of them."

The fire left her eyes, softened by understanding as she searched his for some sort of deception. There was none to be found. Klaus was not one to let his walls down, not even with his own sister, and yet here he was, bearing the closest thing he had to a soul.

"What do you want me to do?" her hand found his arm and Klaus breathed deeply, trying desperately to compose himself and fashion his features back into the mask he wore only too well.

"Return to the Quarter but keep your presence hidden. I trust Marcellus not to hurt an innocent child or its mother; he is far too honourable to stoop so low. But the witches..."

Rebekah's eyes flashed dangerously. "If they're foolish enough to make a move against Hayley, I'll tear the lot of them to shreds."

"Harming Hayley or my child will not be enough for father. Mikael is too smart to be so obvious," Klaus mused. His sister's desire for blood quelled any and all reservations he'd had over her loyalty. "Caroline may have been a distraction but I have no doubt that my child is one as well. He was always going to try to kill them both."

It didn't matter what Rebekah or Caroline or any of them thought. He knew Mikael and he knew that while his child was a target, Caroline was equally in danger. He'd done what Mikael had wanted him to. He'd run, like the fool he was, to his fallen angel's side. His child was in danger but had the protection of its mother and its uncle, even Marcel and now her aunt. Caroline had the quarterback, a witch who was no longer a witch, just a dead girl tethered to life by a fraying thread; she had the Ripper and his doppelganger, even Damon Salvatore. But none of them, not one, would be able to stop his father.

Caroline would be dead before any of them could blink.

Klaus lifted a hand to tuck a loose strand of gold-spun hair behind his sister's ear. "Find out who is aiding our father. And kill them."

Rebekah smiled darkly, a vow of violence on her lips. "I'll fly out first thing in the morning."

It should have been enough to ask her to return to the Quarter, but there was one more thing he needed from her, one more vow of loyalty before she left.

"Rebekah," he took a deep breath, fingers absently playing with her hair. He remembered once how he'd platted it for her when they were children. "If something were to happen..."

"Nik –" he could see the anxiety in her eyes but he had to do this.

He had to ask.

"If father or the witches succeed in whatever it is they have planned, if New Orleans becomes too dangerous, if they try to hurt her..." Klaus licked his lips, voice trailing off. His fingers curled around her shoulder almost painfully in desperation. He had to make her see his truth. "I want you to promise me Bekah that you'll take her away. Take my daughter far away from New Orleans and anyone that wishes to do her harm."

Her chin lifted, concern and disbelief, etched into the sharp furrow of her brow. "You would want me to take her from Hayley?"

What could the little wolf do when an entire city would see their daughter dead? Witches, vampires, even the werewolves would see her as a threat, as a tool to gain power and leverage over the most powerful family in the world. Their enemies would see her dead and their allies, they'd most likely see her dead too.

"I would want you to do whatever necessary to ensure your niece's safety and happiness. She has inherited all our enemies with none of our defences," his response was short, clipped and yet calm, resolute in his belief and his fear. Rebekah could see the truth, the genuine concern on his face, the silent pleading in his eyes. "Despite our differences, little sister, there is no one I would trust more with my daughter's life."

He could not lose Caroline... but he could not lose his child either.

And Rebekah, despite their differences, all he'd ever wanted for her was to be happy. The Cure had been a fanciful dream; it was as if being human would wash away her sins and he'd known that she'd come to regret it in the end. He hadn't understood her need to be human – perhaps, he would never understand – but Klaus knew that motherhood was the one thing she had craved ever since she'd been a little girl. He could still remember when they were human, when one of the village girls had given birth to a set of twin boys and the way little Bekah's eyes had lit up when she'd seen them. Even as a small girl, she'd wanted to be a mother.

This was his offering.

This was his way of trying to fix what their mother and father had broken in them.

This was him giving her a chance at the humanity she so desperately craved.

This was his way of saying sorry.

Rebekah smiled up at him softly, the glimmer of unshed tears in her eyes. She moved forward, her arms wrapping around his waist. Klaus tensed, unsure at first but slowly he relaxed in her embrace, his arms lifting to curl around her tiny form. He'd not truly hugged another being in over a thousand years, not like this, not even her – his own sister. Her lips pressed to his shoulder, a rare show of sisterly affection.

"I will keep her safe, Nik. I promise."

* * *

**Thoughts anyone? **

**Thank you all for the reviews you left with the last chapter by the way! I was surprised by the enthusiasm you all had at the mere mention of Kol's name. I won't make promises and ruin the story; he may show up later on or he may not. You'll just have to wait and see!**

**Till next time ;)**


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Oh my goodness! Thank you for all the support and reviews. I found some time (and inspiration) to smash this one out in a couple of days because I know the next two weeks are going to be hectic for me. Think of it as a parting gift just in case I don't have time to write for a while. **

**Also, if you'll bear with me I just want to take the time to address one review in particular as I cannot respond via PM. **

**In response to chapter ten, Kira writes: '**_Ugh. I asked you not to focus on the demon spawn and you did. I thought you said every review counts. Honestly your a good writer but if you don't listen to your readers then what's the point in writing something like this? Who cares about klayley baby drama? I know its a crossover but seriously just kill the thing off already. Otherwise, you just lost yourself a reader._**'**

**Thank you for taking the time to read my story, Kira. Every review does count and I do listen to my readers, without them I would no doubt lose my motivation for this story. You are all a driving force that pushes me to write when I'm dog-tired and stressed, because I feel it would be a disservice not to finish what I have started. **

**That being said, this is my story and I cannot please everyone. I am sorry you feel the way you do, but if you feel the need to quit this story then please do so. My writing is not for everyone, so if you would rather delve into a world where Hayley and her spawn are dead and gone, then by all means go ahead because you will not find that here. **

**I write with a purpose to create a realistic crossover between the two shows, which means writing story arcs that I myself am not overly fussed on into this plot. I want to be as creatively cannon and yet AU as possible. Thank you for reading and I hope you continue to, but if not then I wish you well for the future. **

**Now that that is done – on to the story! **

**I have a feeling a lot of you will enjoy this judging from previous reactions ;)**

**Happy Reading!**

* * *

Caroline hummed softly, fingers combing through the wet strands of her hair as she tried to detangle all the knots. The sweet smell of pomegranate body wash and steam filled the small bathroom, the feminine perfume wafting down the hallway to her childhood bedroom. Her body was warm and comfortably relaxed, the heat of her bath chasing away the tension in her muscles. Finals had been a nightmare, especially now that she had a permanent shadow trailing after her.

Klaus was being insufferably annoying. It had only been two days and yet it felt like so much more time had passed. He was _always_ there, a constant shadow. She couldn't go to the library to study without seeing him half hidden in a nearby corner. Even buying a coffee had become somewhat nightmarish, simply because she _couldn't _buy coffee – it was already sitting there, freshly made and waiting for her. He'd compelled the barista, not to mention her entire class and all her professors. Which, of course, was totally unnecessary – not to mention _wrong _– on so many levels!

Liv's spell had worked. She was safe now, for all intents and purposes; Mikael had not shown his face, or made his presence known, for two nights now. She'd actually been able to s_leep_, to dream of blissful nothingness and actually wake not with a scream on her lips, or terror coursing through her veins. Caroline felt rested for the first time what felt like forever. And it would have all been perfect had she not had such an irksome shadow following her every move. Klaus was exasperatingly devout in this ridiculous notion he had about her protection. Ever since Rebekah had left he'd been a thorn in her side.

It would have been endearing if hadn't been so maddeningly irritating.

Stefan and Elena were shacked up in some cheap two-bit motel Damon had found in the middle of nowhere in an effort to hide them both from Markos. Liv's brother was with them doing some sort of cloaking spell. At least now they didn't have to worry about Enzo '_the-not-so-friendly-ghost_' whisking him away. Bonnie had him on some sort of leash made out of a promise; she would find a way for him to come back from the Other Side before it all went to hell, or so she said.

The Other Side would fall, and soon, but they had to find some sort of way to quicken the process. If they could find a way to destroy it tomorrow then Mikael would become a worry of the past. Everything Matt and Bonnie found, even Liv's coven's grimoire, was utterly useless and left them no closer to an answer.

It was a waiting game and one that Mikael would win.

So Markos had become the priority of the day.

Caroline had left Whitmore after her last exam to stay with her mother for the night. It was a Klaus-free zone, considering she'd all but threatened to unleash her mother's wrath upon him. Klaus wasn't afraid of Elizabeth Forbes, far from it in fact, but he couldn't exactly snap her neck if she pulled a gun on him. He knew that Caroline knew that he could do nothing; his hands were tied firmly behind his back, just where she wanted them. Because if he did act out, if he even so much as threatened her mother or looked at her the wrong way, Klaus would lose any chance he had with her... not that he had one, mind you.

Caroline was nothing if not advantageous in her effort to find just a moments solitude. She appreciated all that Klaus was doing. She didn't exactly understand why he'd chosen to stay and not leave with Rebekah. And yet, she _did _understand. Caroline just didn't like it, so she refused to accept or acknowledge its truth.

With a tired sigh, she looked at her reflection in the mirror and frowned. Who was this girl, this pretty young blonde that looked far older than her nineteen years? Caroline felt as if she were looking at a stranger.

Her life had changed so much over the past year. _She _had changed almost too much. She'd become so detached from the young naive girl she'd been, the one who'd dreamt of homecoming and graduation and Miss Mystic Beautification committees. Now she was plotting to kill some bazillion year-old warlock with her less than stellar ex-boyfriend who'd, somehow, managed to become besties with her mother.

Maybe Klaus was the lesser of two evils compared to Damon Salvatore and his ridiculous need to make snide little blonde jokes when her mother was out of earshot.

Caroline sighed.

She needed sleep.

* * *

_The soft sultry tones, the summer sweet croon of the singer, as the music surrounded her left Caroline in awe. The rhythm of the drum, the fast yet slow tempo of the trombone as its low baritone set her soul afire; it was music in its rawest form, beautiful and pure. There was fire and love, lust and loss. The soft sounds told a story, a chronicle of the artist's own tragedy. She could feel the burning loss in the woman's voice as she sang. Caroline revelled in it, held the burn close to her heart and felt it almost as keenly as if the heartbreak were her own. _

_She swayed softly to the music, watching in fascination as the beads on her dress danced back and forth at the motion. Caroline turned toward the bar and smiled curiously at the bartender, eyes drawn to the crisp white shirt and precise bow tie. Women danced and twirled, their hair swept up and curled just so. They were symbols of fire, so young and so spirited, eager for the fray, all silk and scarlet lips, quivering to the beat of the drum. _

_Strong hands swept her away, warm and equally as eager. Caroline laughed as she twirled on to the dance floor, her body moving blithely across the floor until he pulled her close. She smiled, a hand resting atop his chest as they swayed softly to the music. It was fast and rambunctious now, a footfall of loud cheers and exuberant heels. And yet, he held her so sweetly, so warmly and simply guided her slowly across the dance floor. They didn't need to be loud or fast, slow and sweet was just fine. _

"_Did they really dance till they dropped?" she asked curiously, watching the swirls of blue and green and flapper red fly across the floor._

_Reckless._

_Sexy. _

_Fun._

_Caroline drank in the sounds and smells, the pure vitality of the men and women who had not a care in the world. If this was the 1920's then she'd been born in the wrong era. It was intoxicating, the fervour, the gaiety, the careless wonder and abandonment; she loved it just like he'd said she would._

_Klaus smiled down at her charmingly, the telltale glint of mischief in his eyes as he spun her away from him. She let out a surprised laugh, spinning in his arms before he dipped her to the floor._

_His lips pressed to the base of her neck and his voice, the whisper of a secret tickled at her throat. "Only if I dropped them."_

_The cheeky glint, the heat of his stare, made her insides coil in anticipation. She smiled up at him happily, pushing her body up toward his. He let her set their pace, the gentle sway she'd liked so much. _

"_You wouldn't drop me," she said disarmingly, confident as she look up into the beautiful steel blue of his eyes. _

_Klaus stared at her for the longest time. "No, I wouldn't. Not ever."_

_She smiled, laughing as he twirled her once more. Her body spun out, her small hand clutched in his larger warm one. As she curled back toward him, black beads swaying, Caroline looked up, expecting to see blue mischief but instead, hard brown eyes looked back at her. _

_She tried to pull away but his grip tightened and Mikael pulled her close, continuing to sway across the dance floor regardless of his unwilling partner. Caroline tried to pull her hand out from his, but his grip was punishing and she cried out as the bones in her fingers cracked under the pressure. _

_This was not happening. _

_This was not supposed to happen. _

"_I underestimated you," Mikael confessed dispassionately, brown eyes locked onto her frightful blues. His smile was a slow burn, the rise of which made her insides crawl. Caroline tried to pull free once more, but he had her at a disadvantage and she could nothing but sway in his arms helplessly. _

_Caroline frowned balefully, her lips set in a hard line. "Most people do."_

"_Ah," Mikael smiled charmingly, knowingly, and continued. "You're not just a pretty face though, are you my dear? There is sense buried in there, somewhere beneath all this misplaced loyalty you seem to have for my son. He was not loyal to you though, was he?"_

_He was baiting her, trying to get a rise out of her. It didn't matter if his words cut – even though they shouldn't have – because Caroline refused to lower herself to play this game, _his game_. Mikael could taunt her all he liked. They were just words after all. And yet words, the right words – or the wrong ones – could inflict deeper suffering than the slice of any blade. _

_Words could fester._

"_It seems I have underestimated your worth, dear girl," Mikael remarked lightly, the ghost a charming smile on his lips as he considered her baleful silence. "You were the perfect distraction. You see, I needed to draw Niklaus away from New Orleans. It was all quite simple really. I saw that he held a level of affection for you and used it to my advantage. I, however, did not anticipate that he would linger by your side."_

_The way he looked at her, the way his eyes seemed to eat her whole, made Caroline cringe. Her abhorrence was clear; it was in the revolt of her tightly coiled muscles, in the hostility of her stare. He could play charming, pretend to be some sort of misunderstood soul. But she knew his game and she would not fall for it. _

_Maybe her loyalty – if that was what you wanted to call it – to Klaus was misplaced. It was true that she...cared for him. Despite her better judgement, Caroline couldn't help but care. Even if he drove her insane, even if he turned out to be the biggest mistake of her life, Caroline couldn't help but care for him. _

_It would be so much easier if she didn't. _

_Mikael looked pleased with himself as he continued, not unaware of her internal battle. "So you see, I cannot help but wonder whose death would affect him more – yours or that abomination's. You have put me in a very difficult position, Caroline."_

_Well forgive her for being someone's first choice for once. _

"_It was not my intention to harm you beyond what was necessary, but now..." the Mikaelson patriarch observed her with a dark visage, his smile light while his eyes hinted at the pain yet to come. He trailed off, continuing to twirl her mindlessly across the dance floor._

_Caroline tried to keep her panic under control, tried desperately to bury her unease beneath layers of indifference as she looked for some sort of weapon to use to her advantage. Just as she was about to use herself – she was just as deadly a weapon, was she not? – heel poised to spear the Original in his foot, they came to an abrupt halt. _

_She looked up to see a hand resting above Mikael's shoulder. Fingers tapped impatiently, almost forcefully on the patriarch's shoulder and Mikael turned, his grip on her loosening. Caroline quickly pushed herself away, ready to flee when a slyly playful voice stopped her. _

"_Mind if I cut in?" _

_Caroline opened her mouth in surprise at the impish grin. He looked a rascal, a devil in a well-cut suit as he twirled what looked to be a pool stick in his hands. Mikael seemed taken aback at the ill-behaved holy terror, who reserved for her a teasing wink before propelling forward. She watched as he moved, impossibly quick and agile, impaling the older man in the stomach and onto the bar. All around them, women and men continued to dance oblivious to the fight between father and son._

_She watched the struggle with wide eyes, stunned to stillness. Eventually, a winner was born as the younger man imbedded two broken whiskey bottles into his father's wrists, pinning the man to the bar like an eagle._

_He turned to her then, grabbing another bottle from behind the bar with a salacious grin. His eyes travelled the length of her body slowly, inspecting the little 1920's do with an approving nod. "Well don't you look positively delicious. Did you miss me, darling?"_

_Caroline wavered slightly. "Kol?"_

_He flashed her an impish grin, taking a large mouthful of whiskey before throwing the bottle away with a careless flourish of his hand._

"_In the flesh – sort of," he extended a hand toward her, eyes dancing in amusement. "Now, how about that dance?"_

_Caroline blinked in confusion, shaking her head slightly as he swept her up into a waltz. _

_Kol Mikaelson had just impaled his father to a bar with a pool stick._

_For her. _

_And now they were... waltzing?_

"_What are you –" she started to question his presence, his _'realness' _when he abruptly cut her off with a sharp twirl._

"_Doing?" he spoke with sprightly ease. "Oh not much. A bit of this, a bit of that. Some good old fashioned haunting here and there."_

_Caroline frowned. "Here. What are you doing _here_?"_

_In her head. _

_In her dream. _

_With Mikael... which really shouldn't have been possible now that she thought about it. _

_Liv's spell –_

"_Why – saving you, of course," Kol replied casually, pausing a moment to survey her face with slight concern. "You are the smart one, aren't you?"_

_Caroline opened her mouth to protest, brow puckered in indignation._

"_I will end you for this boy!" Mikael's voice broke through the noise of the speakeasy, his thunderous bellow interrupting their conversation and Kol brought them to a halt, his hand gently resting on the arch of her back. _

_Caroline felt almost foolish for forgetting that the Mikaelson patriarch was impaled on the bar a few feet from them. The look of him, as he struggled against the wooden pool stick imbedded in his abdomen and the broken glass bottles that acted as his shackles, sent a satisfying shiver down her spine._

"_Oh honestly," Kol raised an impudent eyebrow at the older man. "Can you not see I'm a little busy here, father?"_

_Mikael roared in response. "Ko –"_

_But his words were abruptly cut off as the son moved quickly, impossibly quick, toward the bar. The young Original grabbed a nearby dirty bar rag and stuffed it into his father's mouth, muffling the man's angered cries. _

"_There now, much better," Kol smiled in satisfaction, a feral gleam in his eye as he patted his father on the cheek. "I do love the sound you make when you shut up."_

_Caroline's answering giggle brought his attention back on her and he moved blithely toward her. "Now where were we?"_

"_Why are you doing this?" she asked as they started to dance once more. _

_She'd given up on asking herself why they were dancing. All the Mikaelson men seemed insistent upon it and, when it wasn't Mikael guiding her across the floor, it was rather pleasant. Kol was surprisingly pleasant. She hadn't really known the young Original before Elena and Jeremy had killed him. They'd crossed paths maybe once or twice. He'd always seemed a rambunctious sort, easily distracted, easy to temper but gleefully playful. _

_A real Mischief Man. _

"_The more accurate question is why would I not?" he replied with friendly aloofness. When all she did was stare, he sighed. "You're Nik's girl."_

_Caroline bristled at the comment. "I'm no one's girl."_

_Not Tyler's. _

_And most definitely not Klaus', no matter what the idiot hybrid thought._

"_Keep telling yourself that darling, maybe you will actually start to believe it one day," Kol smirked, voice curiously haughty for someone who'd always seemed so much more laid back and grounded than his siblings. Then again, there was a pretentious glint to the look in his eyes. "My help doesn't come without a price, you know?"_

_Ah. _

_So there it was. _

_Caroline kept her face impassive as she let him spin her away from him. As her body twirled back towards his she asked. "What do you want?"_

"_I want out."_

_Gone was the smile, the happy-go-lucky mischief. He was serious, deadly so._

"_There isn't a way out. At least, not one that I know of," Caroline answered softly, their dance coming to a standstill. _

_She remembered what Matt had said about him being afraid. If there was a way she could bring him back, then she would. Enzo and Alaric would be back by now, even Lexi, and possibly Nadia, if there _had_ been a spell. But as it was, Liv and Bonnie knew nothing. The kind of magic required to bring someone back from the dead on purpose – not Bonnie's instinctual love for Jeremy – but real and proper dark magic, was way beyond anything they had access to. _

"_You let me worry about the details, sweetheart," the way he said it, the smug little twitch of his eye – it spoke of arrogance. _

_He _knew. _It wasn't a matter of finding a way; _he already had one.

"_You know how Mikael plans to come back?" she asked with wide eyes. _

_If he knew who was helping Mikael, they might actually have a chance at stopping him. _

_Kill the witch who's helping him. _

_Could it really be as simple as that?_

"_Perhaps. Perhaps not," he grinned conspiratorially. "I have loved a lot of witches over the course of my long life. I know a spell or two."_

"_You need a witch."_

"_I need a witch," he nodded, taking her hand to lead them to a nearby booth. "And a body – my body, preferably."_

_That would be easy enough, she supposed. Caroline had helped Tyler bury his corpse by a creek in the woods. She'd always meant to tell Klaus and Rebekah, but neither sibling had ever really asked what had become of their brother's body. Which was sad, really, when she thought about it. Nobody deserved that kind of disregard._

_As she slid into the booth beside him, hands resting atop the dark burnished wood, Caroline watched the gentle tilt of his head and the knowing smile blossom in his eyes. It was sad to think that he'd been trapped over here all this time and they'd never, not once, stopped to think about him and what was happening. The only time they ever had was when Matt had brought him up in conversation the other day._

_Kol moved his hands to clasp her smaller ones. "You cannot hope to stop my father, not at this point. His witch is too close to completing her spell. My method just happens to be a hell of a lot faster."_

_Caroline felt her hope deflate._

"_Why should I help you?" she asked pointlessly, already knowing that she would. "Jeremy and Elena killed you."_

_Kol grinned darkly and shrugged his shoulders. "Bygones, darling. I promise."_

_He promised to lie. _

_Caroline knew Klaus and she knew the look he got when he was just placating her. It was amusing to see the same expression on his little brother's face._

"_Do you know how to bring down the Other Side before Mikael finds his way back?" Caroline asked, folding her hands in a business-like manner in front of her. _

_If she was going to help him, and he was going to go after Jeremy and Elena regardless of what he said, then she needed to know that it was for a good reason. He said that Mikael couldn't be stopped, not at this point. But she had to hope, had to believe that he was wrong. _

"_You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours."_

_Caroline swallowed thickly, chancing a glance back at the bar where Mikael remained impaled. She stared at the father and then the son, trying to weigh her options. She had to be smart about this. Kol was a _Mikaelson_. And, while she could handle Rebekah and Klaus, he was an unknown entity. _

_Caroline licked her lips and then sighed. "Alright. What do I do?"_

_Kol's answering grin was infectious._

"_Get your witch, get my body and find that _gorgeous_ little Anchor of yours and get the hell out of Mystic Falls," he spoke quickly, hands coming to rest on either side of her face. Kol moved before she could protest and pressed his lips chastely against hers with the desperate force of a man who'd been dead for _far _too long. "I'll take care of the rest. Oh, and you better hurry sweetheart. Travellers can be a bit of an irksome bunch, especially when it comes to spells."_

_Caroline blinked in confusion, opening her mouth to ask him what he meant when his hands twisted sharply and snapped her neck._

* * *

**In lieu of his baseball bat, I gave my second main man a pool stick. I thought it only fair ;)**

**Let me know what you thought about this one.**

**Till next time!**


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